


Golden Sun

by lilahri



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Good Parent Jeralt Reus Eisner, I mean I tried to write politics, Politics, no beta we die like Glenn, spoilers for all routes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28893018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilahri/pseuds/lilahri
Summary: As much as he wished otherwise, Jeralt knew Byleth would not be able to hide forever. So, the question was: how could he protect his child, his precious daughter, from the Archbishop of Fódlan? The answer, insomuch as he could come up with one, was to get her as many allies as possible.~~~~~A canon divergence AU, where Jeralt raises Byleth under the protection of House Fraldarius.
Relationships: Byleth & Jeralt's Mercenaries, Glenn Fraldarius & My Unit | Byleth, Jeralt Reus Eisner & My Unit | Byleth, Miklan & My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	1. Prologue

~ Prologue ~

Jeralt was aware of how Fódlan viewed titles and nobility. He was aware that his rank of Captain of the Knights of Seiros came with a certain level of privilege. He knew that, during his many years serving the Church and working at the Monastery, he had accrued a fair few powerful friends and friendly acquaintances. He just hated the whole system. He had always thought one should be judged on their actions, rather than their station in life. That respect had to be earned. He had worked hard to get to where he was but hated that he was accorded certain shortcuts now that he had reached a certain level of prestige.

Alois had loved telling anyone and everyone that he was with “Captain Jeralt! Of the Knights of Seiros!” Inns would suddenly have their best rooms available; his meals were discounted, and drinks were on the house. Nobles would lose their dismissive attitude and commoners would lower their eyes in submission. He hated it (except for the free drinks). Hated that people assumed certain things simply because of his rank. Hated to be treated differently. Hated to be judged before actually doing anything. But just because he hated it didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to _use_ it. He would use every advantage available to him when it came to protecting his daughter.

~~~~~

“I am so sorry, my friend. I know that Sitri was –“

“Don’t.” Jeralt cut him off. “I can’t – I’m not ready – don’t say her name. Not yet. I don’t think I can bear to talk about her right now.” He couldn’t meet his friend’s eye and instead gazed at the silent child staring at him from the crib.

Rodrigue moved from the doorway and shut the door behind him. He walked to where Jeralt stood and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Of course. I understand.”

“You don’t.” Jeralt corrected him. “And I hope you never do.”

The two friends stood in silence for a moment before Jeralt finally looked up from the child and met Rodrigue’s gaze.

“What are you doing here?” He asked him gruffly.

“I have business with the Church.” Rodrigue answered. “Some minor disagreements that the Western Church asked me to bring to Her Grace’s attention.” He released Jeralt’s shoulder and moved closer to the crib. “This is your child?” He asked, looking at the tiny baby.

“Aye. This is the babe.”

“And?” Rodrigue prompted, attempting to lighten the mood somewhat. “What is their name? Is it a boy or girl?”

“A girl. And I don’t know. I have not named her.” Jeralt turned away and sat at his desk. “I don’t know if I will.”

“What?” The Duke exclaimed, shocked. “My friend –“ 

“Rodrigue.” Jeralt cut him off again. “Sit down.”

Rodrigue moved to the chair in front of the desk and sat, still shocked.

“I need to know,” the Knight began, looking first at the door to ensure it was closed, then lowering his already quiet voice, “where your loyalties lie.”

The Duke stared at him. “What?” He asked, barely audible. “How could you ask that?" Jeralt waited, expectant. "With my King of course. With my people.”

Jeralt nodded, then clarified, “and the Church?” He bore his gaze into his friend’s, willing him to understand. “The Archbishop?”

Rodrigue stared at him, confused, and concerned. “Well yes, of course. And with you, my friend, you are the Captain of the Knights of Seiros after all.”

“And if I wasn’t?” Jeralt continued. “If it came down to a choice between me or the Archbishop?”

The Duke shifted his gaze from the Knight to the babe in the crib once more. She laid there, silent and staring. He looked back at his friend and met his gaze, resolute.

“I owe you a life debt, Ser Jeralt. And more than that, you are one of my dearest friends. What is it you need from me? What has the Archbishop done?” He whispered.

Jeralt stared at him for a long moment and Rodrigue held his gaze. He made his decision.

~~~~~

Two days later, Duke Fraldarius left Garreg Mach after completing his business with Archbishop Rhea. The day after that a fire spread across the faculty wing of the Monastery. Despite the best efforts of everyone available, it could not be put out fast enough to save the only occupant of the rooms at the time. The fire had originated in the Captain’s suite, and in the end, there was nothing left but ash. The two Knights who were on guard duty at the time, resigned immediately. Ashamed of having failed their Captain.

Captain Jeralt, grief stricken and furious, having lost his wife and daughter within such a short amount of time, demanded to be released from the Church’s service.

And Rhea, seemingly equally grief stricken, agreed.

~~~~~

Rodrigue rode into Castle Fraldarius with little fanfare. He greeted the stableboy and requested for his things to be brought to his room as usual. Once he entered his study, he called for his steward, his wife, and his sister. The servant offered to take his traveling cloak, but the Duke refused, insisting that the chill from the ride hadn’t left him yet.

Once he was alone, he opened his cloak to check on his precious cargo strapped to his chest.

The babe was silent, as she had been for the entire ride from the Monastery. While he worried at this extremely abnormal behavior, he was also thankful for it. Their ruse would have much more difficult with a crying child to conceal.

There was a knock at the door, and he bid them entry. The three people to enter his study were those he trusted most in his household, and he knew he would need their cooperation.

“Your Grace.” His steward bowed, closing the door behind him.

“My love,” his wife greeted him with a kiss, “welcome home.”

“We missed you brother. I trust everything is settled with the Church?”

“The business I had with them concluded easily,” he replied. “However, we have more pressing matters to attend to now.” He opened his cloak to show them the babe.

They stared at him, shocked. The child had a small tuft of dark hair and he could see the confusion on all three of their faces. He met his wife’s eyes and silently begged her to trust him.

“Please, hold your questions. I will explain everything. Let us sit down first.”

As they settled in front of the fire, he unstrapped the babe and wrapped her in a blanket.

“This is Ser Jeralt Eisner’s daughter. He has reason to believe that, at the moment of her birth, the Archbishop performed some sort of experiment on her. His wife did not survive the birthing, and his daughter…” He met each of their gazes, knowing how crazy this sounded, “she does not have a heartbeat and she does not cry. She hasn’t made a sound.”

They stared at him. Whatever they had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t _that_.

“He does not know what the Archbishop has planned for her but did not trust that it would be in his daughter’s best interest. I owe Ser Jeralt a life debt and offered him any service he required to ensure her safety. I plan to claim this child as my own. A bastard daughter. She was born early and is still exceedingly small. I will claim that she was born here, perhaps hide her for a few months to obscure her age. Ser Jeralt will join us after settling his affairs with the Church, and I will offer him a place in our household, perhaps as Captain of the Guard, so that he may still be near his daughter.”

“No.” Surprisingly, it was his sister, not his wife, who objected.

“Radella,” Rodrigue began.

“No.” She repeated. “It is not a bad plan brother, but it would never work.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You are too noble.” She explained. “Too honorable and loyal. No one will believe it. Everyone knows you love Ariana. Also, the timing wouldn’t make sense. Glenn was born just last year, and you expect people to believe you somehow got another woman pregnant when your beloved wife had just given you an heir?”

Rodrigue floundered. “Perhaps – I could have been drunk?”

“You don’t drink.” His wife countered in a small voice. “At least, not in excess. Not to the point of drunkenness. The household knows this. And it is them we would have to convince first if you want this to spread.”

The Duke stared, stumped. “I hadn’t thought of that… what do you suggest then? I promised Jeralt we could protect her. Claiming her as a Fraldarius would be our best bet to ensure her safety.”

They all exchanged glances and sat in silence for a moment.

The steward cleared his throat. “If I may, Your Grace?”

“Yes, Cedric?”

“Perhaps Ser Jeralt could still claim to be the father. He could engage in a ruse of a relationship with someone here. Then we simply lie about the age of the child, as you suggested. It may be difficult to extend her supposed birth by that many moons, but if she remains small then it could be possible.”

“That could work.” His wife agreed, thoughtful. “It would have to be a woman we trust and placed high enough in the household to still offer protection. Being the daughter of Jeralt Eisner would be protection on its own as well. They would also have to leave for a time, to ensure the ‘pregnancy’ and timing of the birth would remain a secret.”

Rodrigue nodded slowly. “But who? What woman would agree to not only raise a child not their own, but be with a man who does not love her?”

“I would.”

The other three turned to stare at Radella.

She held her brother’s gaze, chin lifted.

“I have few prospects as it is, we know this. I have a considerable dowry, but no Crest. And it is known that you dote on me brother. That you would never force my hand and that I suffer no fools, so any nobleman seeking my hand for my dowry only would be turned away. We have not received a marriage offer since that pitiful, sniveling Baron last year. I know Ser Jeralt to be a good man, he would never hurt me, and I would love this child as my own.”

“Radella,” Rodrigue said, carefully, “I could never ask you to - “

“You are not. I am offering. And unless you can think of a more favorable alternative, I will have to insist.”

And that was that. The others knew there was no arguing with Radella Fraldarius when she had made up her mind.

~~~~~

A week later, Ser Jeralt Eisner was greeted at the gates of Castle Fraldarius.

It was apparent to all that he was still grieving the loss of his wife and child. He spent most of his time with the members of House Fraldarius (especially in the nursery with the young Heir, obviously in an attempt to fill the hole the death of his child caused) and helping train the castle’s guards.

However, soon the household was abuzz with rumors of a whirlwind romance between him and Lady Radella. They were seen walking the gardens and taking long rides together most afternoons. It was said that she was the only one to bring even the slightest smile to the Knight’s face.

“A fine match.” The Steward was heard commenting to the Duke. “Sir Jeralt will treat your sister well.” A passing chambermaid giggled into her hand and continued on her way with the day’s laundry.

“Indeed.” His Grace agreed. “I would not settle for less for my beloved sister.”

Within a moon’s turn, Lady Radella Avon Fraldarius married Sir Jeralt Reus Eisner. They spent the next year at the family’s small country estate with a few members of the household, and two knights who had sworn service to the Eisner family.

When they returned to Castle Fraldarius, it was with a healthy baby girl: Byleth Ariana Eisner.

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea has been in my head and I was inspired to write for the first time in _years_. This is also my first fic that I’m posting on AO3, so please let me know of any formatting mistakes I made or tags I should include.
> 
> I appreciate any comments, but please keep any criticisms constructive. This is just for fun! We’re all here to get away from the craziness of real life, so let’s keep it friendly in the comments please (I’ll be moderating them).
> 
> Just a few little things to clarify: the “ser” rather than “sir” is inspired by A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones. I just like it better. Also, I’m basing the idea of Fódlan’s nobility on medieval Europe’s nobility, but I am by _no means_ an expert. I’m just planning on picking and choosing concepts that I like and using them (like the fact that knights were considered nobility). And finally, when it comes to OC’s, they will be minor supporting characters. Most of the time, the OC’s will be canon characters that were just never named in the game (like Rodrigue’s wife). Radella Fraldarius is based on the fact that Rodrigue has an “unnamed younger brother” according to the Wiki, so I just changed that to sister. For the most part, this fic will focus on the canon characters we know and love in Three Houses, the situations will just be tweaked.
> 
> I have played all four routes of Three Houses, so beware of spoilers!
> 
> You can come say hi on Tumblr as well if you want! (same username there as here) I'm not super active on there, but I'll try to respond to you!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. Part I: New Beginnings: Origin of a Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeralt and Radella return to Castle Fraldarius, but a new discovery threatens the ruse they have built to protect Byleth.

_Part I: New Beginnings  
Years 1160-1165_

_~ Chapter Two: Origin of a Flame ~_

**Verdant Rain Moon, 1160**

Jeralt dismounted before turning towards the carriage holding his wife and daughter. Their driver had already opened the door, and Jeralt offered his hand to assist his lady’s descent. Radella smiled at her husband as she took his hand and stepped down, holding Byleth snuggly against her breast. “She’s just waking up. She slept for most of the journey.” Jeralt kissed her hand then placed another kiss on his daughter’s head. They walked together to greet those waiting at the front steps of the Castle.

“Welcome home, sister.” Rodrigue said as he stepped forward to kiss Radella’s brow. “And you Jeralt! It’s wonderful to have you back with us my good brother.” He clasped Jeralt’s shoulder then turned back to his sister. “This must be your daughter!” He gave a subtle wink at them both. “May I hold her?”

Radella offered the bundle to her brother then turned to hug Ariana and Glenn.

“Look how big you’ve grown, my dear nephew!” Glenn giggled as she kissed both his cheeks.

“She’s beautiful, Jeralt.” Rodrigue said as he stroked the fine hair on his niece’s head. “How old is she now?” He asked in a casual tone that carried across the courtyard as they made their way into the Castle.

“She was born at the start of this year, at the beginning of the Great Tree Moon.” Jeralt responded, equally casually, with pride obvious in his voice. “So, she’ll be five months old next week.”

“Glenn!” Rodrigue called, joyously. “Come meet your baby cousin!” He knelt down so that his son could see her clearly.

The young heir gazed at the baby. “Cousin?” He asked, reaching to touch her face.

“Gentle now, Glenn.” His mother cautioned.

“She is the daughter of your Aunt Radella and Uncle Jeralt, which means she is your cousin.” The Duke explained.

Glenn stroked the baby’s face, then her hair. “Like mine!” He giggled, gently tugging the dark blue strands.

“That’s right.” His father agreed, smiling. He glanced up and shared a look with the other three adults. “She looks just like you.”

~~~~~

The four of them gathered in Rodrigue’s study later that night after settling the children down in their rooms. After a moment of staring into the fire, Jeralt took a deep breath and let it out, the tension in his frame going out with it.

“I cannot thank you all enough,” he began.

“Stop.” Rodrigue interrupted. “You are family now, my friend. As is Byleth. No thanks are needed for protecting family. Besides, if it wasn’t for you, I would have died while attending the Academy! Whatever happens, will happen. And we will face it together.”

“Well then,” Jeralt said, “if no thanks are needed to protect family, then you can consider that debt paid in full.” He frowned, thoughtful now. “I believe our ruse has been believed, at least for now. There are some further concerns, however, that may need to be addressed.” He shared a look with Radella.

She nodded, and explained, “We believe Byleth might have a Crest.”

The Duke and Duchess blinked.

“Well, that could complicate things. I am assuming it is not the same as your Crest, Jeralt? Otherwise, there would be no need for concern.”

Jeralt shook his head. “No, I don’t think it’s the Crest of Seiros. I have never seen its like. She… heals. Quickly. Small wounds only so far, since she has never been seriously injured, but she has also never been sick. I am assuming it was given to her somehow, at the time of her birth. We could pass it off as a Crest that has skipped some generations, since I don’t know much of my own ancestry, but we have no idea what the Crest could actually be.”

Ariana nodded. “We must have her tested then. That will give us some direction on where we should begin spreading rumors of your supposed ancestors. Who knows? Perhaps it is even the truth. I have never heard of a Crest being forcibly bestowed upon someone, so that will not be the first thought that comes to anyone’s mind once we reveal what hers is.”

“Unless it _was_ Rhea. Then once she hears of it, she will know.” Jeralt argued.

“True,” Rodrigue agreed. “But there is not much we can do in that case. She will be suspicious no matter what, being that Byleth is your daughter, it is everyone else we must convince. That will give her the most protection from the Church.”

Jeralt relented, unable to argue the point, but pressed, “You will recall, Rodrigue, it was for that reason I was hesitant to claim her at all.”

“And you will recall, husband,” Radella pressed back, “why that never would have worked.”

“Yeah yeah, Rodrigue’s damn honor.” Jeralt grumbled.

“Hah!” Rodrigue snorted. “Half of what I know of honor was learned from you, Blade Breaker!”

The three Fraldarius adults laughed at the disgruntled look on the knight’s face.

“I don’t remember teaching you that, don’t blame me. Pretty sure duty and honor run through the water here in Faerghus. But now, I will be raiding your alcohol,” Jeralt groused, standing with a groan, “since you don’t even drink it, apparently. Can’t let it go to waste!”

“Help yourself,” the Duke agreed, waving a hand towards his cabinet. “In other news, did you hear that Margrave and Margravine Gautier have given birth to another boy? Sylvain Jose Gautier. He was born a couple of months ago, I believe.” He cast a look at his wife.

“Indeed,” Ariana nodded. “At the start of the Garland Moon. The Margrave had him tested for a Crest only hours after his birth,” she added with disapproving expression. “I heard rumors that he was planning to set aside his wife if she gave birth to another child without one. Thankfully, for both Lady Corliss and Sylvain, he does indeed bear the Minor Crest of Gautier.”

“And what of Miklan?” Radella inquired. “Will he be set aside as heir?”

“He already has been.” Rodrigue said, sadly. “There is no talk of disownment yet, but the Margrave has already sent a sealed decree to Lambert declaring Sylvain as his heir.”

“Surely there is no need for him to disown his firstborn, is there? He’s only five!” Radella argued. “There are several other avenues for noble born children, even without a Crest. He could pursue a knighthood easily at the very least.”

Rodrigue sighed, shaking his head. “You know Radcliffe, Crests are more important to him than anything else. He has hardly acknowledged Miklan as his son since it was confirmed he had none. But as I said, there as been no talk of disownment _yet_. And I will do what I can to discourage any thoughts he has towards that notion. I know Lambert will as well. After all, he never allowed his father to entertain any ideas of disowning Rufus. As long as Miklan himself does not do anything to jeopardize his place, I see no reason he would not remain a member of House Gautier.”

“Bah.” Jeralt scoffed, taking a large swig from his glass. “Bullshit, the lot of it. Dell has loved Byleth as her own daughter, and she’s not even hers by blood! Yet _Lord Gautier_ only values a Crest. Bullshit.” He repeated.

Radella smiled, pleased, and reached out to squeeze Jeralt’s arm. “Thank you, husband.”

“While I’m glad you appreciate my sister, I do understand where Radcliffe is coming from.” Rodrigue held up his hand to forestall the protests he knew were coming. “I do not agree with him. But if Glenn had been born without a Crest, he would not have been able to be my heir and you all know it. The Crown would not have allowed it. The Houses of Blaiddyd, Fraldarius and Gautier are held to a high standard of inheritance, and you know it is a requirement for the Lord and Heir to have inherited the family Crest. We are the foundation of Faerghus, its first and last lines of defense. Our Houses’ Relics are the most powerful in the Kingdom, and the Lords _must_ be able to wield them.” He shook his head. “That being said, if Glenn had been born without a Crest, I would like to believe that I would have loved him the same. And I can’t imagine what it would take for me to even consider disowning any child born to me.”

“Of course, you are correct, my love.” Ariana agreed gently. “It is a terrible burden to place on those who inherit those titles. And we know how difficult it was for Lambert and Rufus.” She added sadly. “Their relationship has never been easy since Rufus was set aside in favor of Lambert. I just hope Miklan and Sylvain to not suffer the same bitterness between them, though I don’t see how that will be possible with the way Radcliffe acts.” She paused, thoughtfully. “It may be best to remove him from the Gautier household after all…”

“Ariana!” Radella exclaimed. “You cannot be serious!”

“I apologize, that came out wrong. I did not mean to suggest disownment, but rather fostering Miklan somewhere other than Gautier Castle. Perhaps offering him a position here? As the page and later squire of a renowned Knight?” She looked meaningfully at Jeralt, Radella and Rodrigue following her gaze.

Jeralt froze with his glass halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“She’s talking about you, Jeralt.” Radella said, teasingly.

“About me, what?” He repeated, then jolted. “Taking a squire? Taking a _Gautier_ as a squire? That’s ridiculous. He’s too highborn for that. He should squire under one of the knights in the Royal Guard if he squires under anyone. The only squire I’ve ever had was Alois, and he was the son of merchants.”

“My friend,” Rodrigue laughed. “Any noble would be honored for their child to squire under the _Blade Breaker_. Surely you know that.”

“Hmph.” Jeralt huffed. “That’s an exaggeration if I’ve ever heard one.”

“It is not –“ Rodrigue insisted.

“And anyway,” Jeralt interrupted, “he’s too young. He’s what, five, you said?” Radella nodded. “So, there we have it. Not eligible to become a page until at least seven.” He took a large gulp to emphasize his point.

“Alright, we’ll shelve that discussion for another time.” Ariana agreed. “But please consider it, Jeralt.”

He grunted in acknowledgment.

“In any case, we need to plan our next steps. You are planning to stay here at Castle Fraldarius, aren’t you Jeralt? We could place you in charge of the guards. Ser Barclay has been complaining more frequently of late that he is much too old to be Captain of the Guard here, and that I need to replace him soon so that he can retire.” Rodrigue said with a fond roll of his eyes. “As if we all don’t know that he just wants to spend more time spoiling his new grandchild. The man is a decade younger than the age the previous Captain retired.”

“Hmm…” Jeralt hummed thoughtfully. “I had considered taking Wes and Carl to do some mercenary work in the nearby territories. The three of us handled a few issues while we were staying at the estate, and we had some requests to return for further contracts.”

“Who are ‘Wes’ and ‘Carl’?” Ariana asked.

“Ser Wesley Burne and Ser Carlyle Oswin, former Knights of Seiros.” Rodrigue clarified. “They are the ones who helped Jeralt fake Byleth’s death after I left the Monastery with her. They arrived shortly before the wedding last year, but I don’t believe you met them. We tried to keep their presence here relatively quiet, so as not to arouse suspicion from the Church. The official story is that they left the Knights of Seiros due to shame and have sworn service to Jeralt’s new family to rectify their dishonor.”

“I trust them with my life.” Jeralt added. “Although I suppose that’s obvious, since I trusted them with Byleth’s life, and I value that above my own. They are the only ones other than us who know Byleth’s true origins.”

“And Cedric, of course.” Radella included.

Jeralt nodded. “And Cedric. Where is your Steward? I thought he would join us.”

“He’s making sure Gordon, Brea and the baby are settled after the journey. Although, I suppose little Cedric isn’t so much a baby anymore. He’s Glenn’s age, isn’t he?” He asked his wife.

“He is. Two years old now. I trust they served you well at the estate?”

“They were wonderful.” Radella confirmed. “Gordon is so much like his father! It was even more apparent seeing him run an estate on his own, rather than assisting Cedric here. He will make a wonderful Steward once his father retires… if he ever does.” She shared a smile with her brother, both convinced that Cedric was the immortal and eternal Steward of Castle Fraldarius. “And Brea was perfect. At first, we simply had to try to get Byleth to eat at regular intervals, since she never cries, but Brea developed quite the knack for sensing when she was hungry. We couldn’t have asked for a better wet nurse. And as Cedric promised, they asked no questions and spread no rumors, save for those we asked them to spread.” She finished with a wink and a smirk.

“Ah yes,” Rodrigue nodded. “We heard of your difficult pregnancy. Confined to your bed for almost the entire duration. Jeralt hardly leaving your side. Refusing entry to all but Brea and a trusted doctor, who had traveled all the way from Remire Village to attend to you as a favor for Jeralt. The Castle was in a constant state of prayer for you, sister. Ariana and I would have come to visit, of course, but Glenn was sick at the time and we didn’t want to risk it. You understand, don’t you?” He asked in fake concern.

“Of course, brother. Completely understandable. I would have been a terrible hostess to you anyway, seeing as I was busy beating Jeralt at chess almost constantly.” She giggled.

“Hey!” Jeralt exclaimed. “You beat me _once_!”

“Twice!” Radella argued.

“That second time didn’t count, and you know it.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” Ariana interjected. “I had every faith in them. Brea was Glenn’s wet nurse as well, and the entire family have been loyal vassals of Fraldarius for generations.”

“Indeed,” Rodrigue agreed. “But back to my original question.” He looked at Jeralt.

Jeralt sighed. “I don’t think I should. While I appreciate everything you’ve done, I think it would be better for me to take mercenary contracts instead of joining your household in an official military position. If there comes a time that it’s not safe for you if we stay here, Byleth and I,” he paused and glanced at Radella, who stared at him with raised eyebrows, “and Dell, need to have some options outside of the Castle. I want to establish some reputation and begin to build a company that I can rely on.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Rodrigue agreed, thoughtful. “Perhaps not Captain of Guard then. It may be better for you to build your company, independent of House Fraldarius.”

Jeralt rolled his eyes. “That is literally what I just said.”

“Well that’s settled then! And what about-“

“Alright,” Ariana cut him off. “I think it’s time we retired for the night. Jeralt and Radella were traveling most of the day. We can settle anything further at a later time.” She stood, and the other three followed her example. “Jeralt, we can summon a Crest scholar here to examine Byleth, if that’s agreeable? I’ll ensure it is someone from the Kingdom, and not affiliated with the Church. Typically, noble children are tested within a few months of their birth, so it shouldn’t arouse suspicion.”

Jeralt nodded, and he and Radella bid the Duke and Duchess goodnight, before heading to the room prepared for them.

As Radella got ready for the night, Jeralt slipped into the adjourning room to check on Byleth. His daughter lay sleeping in the crib, and Jeralt gently checked her forehead then laid his hand on her chest to feel her breathing. The doctor from Remire Village had confirmed that, despite the lack of heartbeat, Byleth was a healthy child, but Jeralt lived in fear that she would catch something, and he would have no way of knowing. She still had yet to cry (or smile), and he doubted that would change if she ever got sick. How would he know? She never indicated any sort of discomfort or pain. And so, he had gotten into the habit of checking her temperature and breathing at any given opportunity. It reassured him, and Byleth never seemed to mind (of course, she never seemed to mind anything, but Jeralt liked to think it comforted her as much as him).

He returned to the main room and updated his journal before changing into his sleep clothes and joining Radella in their bed. The past year with her had been a balm, soothing his fractured soul. She will never be able to replace… _a soft smile as she smelled the flowers…_ and she had not tried to, but she was a dear friend already and a wonderful mother to Byleth. He doesn’t think they will ever be more than friends, and Radella never indicated that she wanted more than that with him anyway, but he was so thankful for the way she had slipped into his life. It had been unexpected, and he was originally furious with Rodrigue for suggesting it last year, but now? Now he appreciated all that Radella had sacrificed to help keep his, no, _their_ daughter safe. He doesn’t know how he would have survived without her. And while he knew, he _knew_ (like he knew when to duck an arrow in the midst of battle) that they would not be safe here indefinitely, he was grateful that Byleth would have some peace, at least for a little while.

But peace would never last long, and he had to prepare her for that as well.

~~~~~

**Horsebow Moon, 1160**

“What.” Jeralt whispered in a dangerous voice. “That’s not possible.”

The Crest scholar took a step back before nodding his head frantically. “I was shocked as well, my lord, but I checked every available text. Your daughter carries the Crest of Flames, thought lost after the death of the King of Liberation.”

Jeralt took a deep breath before sitting down next to Radella, she passed Byleth over to him without needing to be asked.

“What does that mean?” He asked the scholar in a slightly less dangerous voice, holding his daughter firmly against him.

“Well,” he began, “unless His Grace knows of any relation in his ancestry to King Nemesis…” he trailed off as Rodrigue shook his head.

“None in the Fraldarius line, no.”

“Then,” the scholar continued nervously, “it must come from you, Ser Jeralt. The King of Liberation died over a thousand years ago, and while he had no known descendants, it is not out of the realm of possibility that they carried on in secret, perhaps not even knowing their own legacy.”

“Husband,” Radella said softly, reaching out to stroke Byleth’s hair, “that is the most likely explanation.” She met his gaze meaningfully. “And while I understand it’s shocking, now that we know what to look for, we can ensure that Byleth is prepared.”

Jeralt nodded. “Of course. I agree.” He looked towards the scholar, “I apologize. I am worried for my daughter. This Crest is unknown, there hasn’t been a holder in over a thousand years, do we know what the effect may be on her?”

The scholar relaxed somewhat and nodded. “Nothing strenuous, from what my research told me. It appears to heal and protect its wielder. It is said to have been the Crest of the Goddess herself!”

Jeralt tensed, but the scholar had already turned back towards the books he brought with him.

“Well goodness!” Ariana said cheerfully. “What a blessing the Goddess has bestowed upon Houses Eisner and Fraldarius.”

“Indeed.” Rodrigue said, equally cheerfully. “What a blessing indeed.” He walked to where the scholar was studying his texts once again. “We thank you for your time, good sir. My Steward will show you to the room we have prepared for you. You are of course welcome to stay for as long as you desire. We would welcome any information you can provide us on this Crest.”

“Of course.” The scholar agreed, “Perhaps I could study the child-“

“Absolutely not.” Jeralt cut in aggressively.

“Ah. That won’t be necessary, but thank you for the offer.” Rodrigue said, leaving no room for argument. “Cedric, please show him to his room.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Cedric bowed. “This way please.” He led the scholar out of the study.

“But-“ the closing door cut off whatever appeal the scholar was attempting to make.

Rodrigue let out a heavy sigh as he sat back down behind his desk. He pinched the bridge of his nose then looked wearily at Jeralt.

“I won’t apologize.”

“We are attempting to act as though we have nothing to hide, my good brother.” The Duke said, frustrated.

“Rodrigue,” Ariana said, “that was a fair response. Any parent would be upset at their child being… _studied_. That man was out of line.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Rodrigue agreed. “I guess I am being overly cautious of how we react.”

“This will be impossible to hide.” Radella said softly, still gently stroking Byleth’s hair with one hand and holding Jeralt’s arm tightly with the other.

“Then we don’t hide it.” Ariana countered. “As I said, this is a blessing from the Goddess to our Houses. It would be more suspicious if we brushed it under the rug.” She nodded to herself, then with a look at Jeralt and Radella, continued softly, “I am not suggesting we announce it at every opportunity. But it would make sense for us to share the good news with our close friends. The rumor mill will do the rest. We must keep that scholar here until we have a chance to control the flow of information. We can’t let it get out before we’re ready.”

“Rhea will know.” Jeralt said, defeated. “She did this. She did this to our daughter. _What did she do?_ ” He asked, looking up from Byleth to Radella.

“I don’t know.” His wife responded. “But we won’t let her do anything more.” She said firmly. “Ariana is right, Jeralt. Telling some select few makes the most sense and will provide the best protection for Byleth.”

“How?”

“It will give her the protection of the entire Kingdom.” Rodrigue answered. “I am planning to go to the Capital in two months for the Kingdom Founding Celebration during the Red Wolf Moon. While I am there, I will speak with Lambert and share with him… a _version_ of the truth.” He held up his hand as Jeralt looked up at him furiously. “Not the full truth. I promised I would keep your daughter’s secret from him for as long as it does not risk his safety, and I will keep my word. But, he is my best friend and my King. I will not deliberately lie to him.” Jeralt nodded for him to continue.

Rodrigue took a deep breath, forming the narrative in his head. Then he explained his plan.

~~~~~

**Red Wolf Moon, 1160**

Rodrigue sat with his oldest, dearest friend, glasses of wine set out between them on the table in front of the fire. Earlier, when he was announced in the throne room, he greeted his King. Now, when it was just the two of them, he was able to speak with Lambert.

“Well, I’m glad to hear Ariana and Glenn are doing well. You’ll have to bring the whole family for the Celebration next year! I haven’t seen Jeralt since we graduated. I still can’t believe he married Radella!” Lambert laughed. “All the girls in our class would be jealous if they saw her now! They all adored Jeralt.”

Rodrigue laughed with him. “They did, didn’t they? Well he and Radella are very happy. They returned from the estate a few months ago with their new daughter. She was born at the beginning of this year.”

“They didn’t waste any time did they?” Lambert grinned.

Rodrigue’s smile dimmed.

“I’m sorry, my friend. I heard Radella had a difficult pregnancy.” The King said, grimacing. “I shouldn’t joke about that.”

“No it’s alright. It’s just,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “I need to speak with you about that. No one will interrupt us here, will they?”

Lambert frowned. “Of course not.” He answered in an equally soft voice. “What is it?”

Rodrigue took a deep breath, thinking back to his conversation two months ago when Jeralt agreed to this plan.

-

_“Perhaps I can imply that Rhea performed experiments on **you**. That that is part of the reason you left her service. I could also suggest that you believe this to be why Radella’s pregnancy was so difficult, and why you two will not be attempting another child.” Rodrigue started to explain._

_“She did.” Jeralt said, lowly. “She did experiment on me. It saved my life, but I don’t know what she did. It was something with her blood. I didn’t have a Crest before. And I’m aging… slower than I did.”_

_Rodrigue and Ariana stared at him, then at Radella._

_“I knew.” She said. “He told me before he agreed with our plan for us to marry. He wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into.”_

_“Well then,” Rodrigue said, shocked, “I suppose I will be telling Lambert even more of the truth than I originally planned.”_

-

“Radella and Jeralt will not be having any more children.” Rodrigue said, haltingly. _This is true,_ he thought to himself. _You are not lying to your King._

Lambert gasped. “It was that serious? Is Radella alright?”

“She’s fine now, but they don’t want to risk it again. It’s… difficult to explain, and it sounds, frankly, crazy, but I ask that you hear me out.”

“Of course, Rodrigue, you know I will. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Years ago, Jeralt was injured in service to Archbishop Rhea.” Rodrigue began. “He’s not sure what she did, but somehow, she saved his life. When he awoke, he had a Crest he did not possess before his injury. He has also noticed a conspicuous change at the rate he’s aging.”

Lambert stared at him, eyes wide, but not disbelieving.

“His first wife, Sitri, do you remember her?” Lambert nodded. “She died in childbirth, and you heard that the child died shortly after in a fire?” Lambert nodded again. “After the babe was born, Jeralt asked Rhea if her… experiment… put Sitri or the child in danger, she insisted that it did not, but would not give him any further details. Then the fire happened and Jeralt left her service and came to Fraldarius.”

Rodrigue took a sip from his glass and Lambert copied him, still shocked.

“Jeralt suspects that whatever Rhea did… well… he doesn’t want to risk Radella. He blames himself for what happened to Sitri and couldn’t bear it if…” Rodrigue trailed off, taking a deep swallow of his drink.

Lambert nodded slowly. “Of course. That makes sense. Without knowing the cause… well I can understand his hesitance. I had heard that Jeralt requested a doctor friend of his to travel from Remire Village to attend to Radella. I suppose now I know why.”

Rodrigue shrugged. “I assume the doctor is aware of the… unique situation. When I asked, Jeralt only said that he trusted him. I didn’t push.”

Lambert nodded again, sipping from his glass. “And the child?” He asked.

“Which one?” Rodrigue sighed.

The King frowned. “What do you mean? There’s only one child, isn’t there? Your niece?”

“Yes,” Rodrigue agreed. “But Jeralt’s first daughter, the one he had with Sitri, well… isn’t it suspicious that she died so shortly after Jeralt questioned Rhea?”

“You’re not suggesting…”

“No, I don’t think Rhea killed her. The timing of it all is just… none of us know what to think. And it has been further clouded by our recent discovery.” Rodrigue shook his head. “I’m sorry my friend, you’re getting the half-baked theories and questions that we have been going over and still been unable to answer. I don’t mean to burden you.”

“No, Rodrigue, please,” Lambert said, reaching over to clasp his shoulder, “I want to help however I can. Even if it means just lending an ear. I doubt it’s easy to speak of this with Jeralt and Radella.”

“That’s true enough. Jeralt is understandably protective, and he’s frustrated by his lack of knowledge and inability to seek answers. I know he would rather ignore it all and hope that it turns out for the best, but that is no longer an option.”

“What do you mean?” Lambert questioned, concerned. “Is this the ‘recent discovery’ you mentioned?”

“Indeed. It’s also an answer to your question, about my niece, Byleth.”

“She’s alright, isn’t she? Healthy? I haven’t heard anything to the contrary.”

“She is.” Rodrigue took a deep breath and met Lambert’s gaze. “She has a Crest.”

Lambert blinked. “That’s… good isn’t it? Considering her heritage, that’s not much of a shock. Is it the Crest of Fraldarius? Or is it the Crest that Jeralt received from the mysterious healing?” He asked, confused.

“No…" Rodrigue shook his head, leaning closer to his friend. "She has the Crest of Flames.” He said, lowly.

Lambert stared at him. “The Crest of Flames? The Goddess’ Crest? Unseen since the King of Liberation? _**That** Crest of Flames_?” He whispered furiously.

Rodrigue tipped his glass towards Lambert in agreement then emptied it.

“Exactly.”

_“How?”_

“Another mystery. The Crest scholar we contacted is still at Castle Fraldarius, researching what he can. You’re the first person we’ve told.” Rodrigue set his empty glass on the table, then set his elbows on his knees and folded his hands under his chin. “The most believable theory we can come up with, and the one we will most likely… encourage… to everyone other than you, is that Jeralt is a distant descendent of Nemesis. That the Crest manifested due to the combination of Fraldarius blood, being that of one of the Ten Elites.”

“That is believable. Especially to the other families of the Ten Elites. We do like to believe how special we are.” He attempted to joke but sobered quickly. “And your real theory?” Lambert asked, eyes contemplative.

 _This is the only lie I will tell you, my friend._ Rodrigue thought, guiltily. _I’m sorry, but I must protect my family._

“Perhaps Jeralt _is_ a descendent of the King of Liberation, it’s not hard to believe, knowing him as I do. But whether he is or not, I believe that whatever it was Rhea did, somehow awoke the ability for Jeralt to pass on the Crest of Flames. But it’s risky and volatile. Leading to complicated pregnancies and difficult births. I have had the thought, though I haven’t dared say anything to Jeralt, nor do I think I ever will, that perhaps his first child possessed it as well, but was unable to sustain such a powerful Crest.” He closed his eyes, and whispered, “She died in a _fire_ , Lambert.”

“The Crest of _Flames_ …” Lambert whispered back. “You think it’s literal?”

“I don’t know what to think about any of this.” Rodrigue sighed. “The Crest of Flames is the only Crest not containing the name of the original wielder. Well,” he corrected himself, “and the Crest of the Beast. And we know what is said of _that_ Crest. I figure there must be a reason behind the name.”

Lambert nodded thoughtfully. “A terrible thought, but you’re right, it’s a sound theory. I agree with not sharing that with Jeralt, however.”

Rodrigue sighed. “He is beside himself as it is. He and Radella both. They worry for Byleth and what this will mean for her. We believe she will be able to sustain the Crest, she has already shown signs of utilizing it and Jeralt’s doctor did thorough examinations to ensure that she is healthy. But she is the first wielder in over a thousand years, no one knows what to expect. And on top of that, what of the Church?”

“What of them?” Lambert asked, confused at the non sequitur.

“Jeralt said that Rhea was uncommonly interested in he and Sitri’s daughter, the few days that she lived. And when she died, I have heard that the Archbishop was almost as grief stricken as Jeralt himself. Isn’t that odd?”

“She is… very compassionate.” Lambert attempted, unconvincingly.

“True. But in combination with what else we know?”

“You’re worried that she may seek out Byleth. That whatever she did to Jeralt was, what? An experiment to bring back a lost Crest? That she will want the… results of that experiment?”

Rodrigue lifted one shoulder in a shrug and shook his head. “As I said, I don’t know what to think. You’re getting all the theories that have been tangled in my head for the past couple months. Nothing definitive, and no way for us to find the answers." He leaned back and ran his hand over his face in frustration, then looked imploringly at Lambert. "But I would hear your thoughts, my friend. Please.”

They sat in contemplative silence for a long while. Finally, Lambert nodded once and straightened.

“I am glad you have brought this to me, Rodrigue. You are right that there are many unknowns, and without the cooperation of the Archbishop, I do not see how we can uncover the full truth. Therefore, we must move forward and make plans with what we know.”

Rodrigue nodded, relieved. “I agree.”

“I believe you are correct in the assumption that the other noble Houses, especially those of the Ten Elites, will buy into the idea that this Crest manifested due to the inclusion of Fraldarius blood with that of Jeralt’s supposed ancestry. We will treat this as truth, and as the blessing that it is, and share the good news with our peers. After all, the Kingdom has nothing to hide.”

“Of course.” Rodrigue concurred, demurely.

“If, in an attempt to claim this legendary Crest for themselves, anyone dares to threaten Byleth Eisner in any fashion, and by extension – House Fraldarius, we shall bring the full force of the Kingdom down upon them.” The King concluded, resolute.

Rodrigue sighed and shook his head. “Lambert, please, I cannot ask you to go to war for the sake of one child, no matter who she may be.”

His friend reached over to grip the Duke’s shoulder tightly.

“She is a daughter of House Fraldarius, a daughter of my Kingdom. If one wishes to go to war with House Fraldarius, they go to war with Houses Blaiddyd and Gautier. That is the foundation upon which our Kingdom was built. I will not see it crumble in the face of any enemy. Not even the Church.”

~~~~~

The news spread across Fódlan.

Jeralt Eisner, The Blade Breaker, was the descendent of none other than the King of Liberation himself. And his daughter, born from the blood of House Fraldarius, carried his Crest of Flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t seem to pick a POV and stick with it. I know I’m all over the place. I’m working on it, I promise! Hopefully it’s not bothering you guys too much.
> 
> I know Rodrigue is a bit OOC, but I’m planning on shifting his character to be a bit more like his canon counterpart after certain… events. I believe that the Rodrigue we met in canon was shaped by a lot of what happened in the years prior, so I’m trying to write what I think he may have been like before that. I struggled a lot with his convo with Lambert, because I really don’t think he would want to lie to him. I almost had him tell Lambert the truth, but decided that it wouldn’t fit. So instead I had him imply a lot and frame most of it as guesswork pieced together with partial truths so that Lambert will fill in the blanks himself.
> 
> Yes, I know… 1) the device used to recognize Crests was developed by Hanneman. I’m pretty sure it was a relatively new invention at the time the game started in 1180, but we’re just going to pretend he’s already invented it and all the major Houses have one to test their children for Crests. 2) Byleth’s Crest wasn’t recognizable at first. But whatever, this is an AU. Suspension of disbelief for the win!
> 
> Let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!


	3. Part I: New Beginnings: A Time of Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the Capital has Jeralt working on further alliances and protection for the sake of his daughter.

_Part I: New Beginnings  
Years 1160-1165_

_~ Chapter Three: A Time of Celebration~_

**Red Wolf Moon, 1162**

Fhirdiad’s walls loomed above him as Jeralt rode beside Rodrigue. He tightened his grip on Byleth as they passed under the gate. The Kingdom Founding Day Celebration was in less than a week, and the streets of the Capital were bustling. Merchants’ voices carried as they peddled their wares from various booths set up along the sides of the street and visiting nobles and commoners alike filled the throughfares between the gates and the Castle. Battalions of soldiers marched among the civilians, ensuring the safety of the Capital and its citizens, the blue banners of Faerghus flapping in the wind.

Jeralt looked down at Byleth, sitting in front of him, gripping the saddle’s pommel, her eyes wide as she gazed around the scene in front of them. He liked to think that she enjoyed the sight, but her face gave away nothing. He moved the hand gripping her waist to rest on her chest and feel her breathing. It was steady.

“Alright?” He leaned down to ask her, just to make sure. She nodded once.

Their party rode on towards the Castle, Jeralt and Rodrigue following behind the riders carrying the banners with the Fraldarius shield and the Eisner trinity knot, a battalion of Fraldarius soldiers and a small group of Jeralt’s mercenary company following behind them.

“And down that street is the School of Sorcery.” He heard Rodrigue point out to Glenn, who was riding with him. “His Highness finished its construction just last year.”

Jeralt felt a small tug on his sleeve and he glanced down to his daughter. She was looking up at him, but once she had his attention she looked back down and pointed. Jeralt followed her gaze and chuckled.

“That’s a cat. Have you never seen one before?”

Byleth shook her head and kept her eyes on the cat until it darted out of sight into an alley.

Jeralt smiled at her and said, “When we return to Castle Fraldarius, I’ll ask your mother if there are any cats that you can meet. We can catch a fish and give it to them, they like fish.”

Byleth looked up again and pointed to herself. Jeralt laughed.

“That’s right.” He said, still chuckling, “just like you. Are you willing to part with some fish to make friends with a cat?”

Byleth blinked at him, then nodded once.

“Very generous of you.” He leaned down to kiss her head.

His daughter liked cats. He would need to add that to his list. Byleth hardly showed her preferences and he hoarded each bit of knowledge like little nuggets of gold. He and Radella had taken to comparing their observations on what they had noticed Byleth eating, or choosing to spend her time on, just to make sure they didn’t miss anything.

_Byleth likes sweets. Byleth likes cake. Byleth likes to watch the mercenaries’ training. Byleth likes her wooden sword. Byleth likes fish. Byleth likes fishing. Byleth likes cats._

When Jeralt had first discovered Byleth’s love of sweets (cake especially), Radella had had to put her foot down when it came to what he fed her. It was the first time their daughter had ever seemed to _want_ something, and Jeralt could never refuse her. If there was ever a cake within her sight, she would look at him and point to it and any resolve he had would crumble. Radella wasn’t much better, but she at least would make Byleth eat something substantial before rewarding her with cake. This became much easier once they discovered that Byleth also loved fish. Her love of going with him to _catch_ the fish was a recent discovery, and he had spent the past month or so finding every spare moment he could to take her.

Carlyle teased him constantly at the fact his daughter had him wrapped around her tiny little finger, not that he was much better. In fact, none of his men were. Rodrigue liked to joke that he should name his company “Byleth’s Mercenaries,” and Jeralt had honestly considered it before deciding against it. He didn’t want to draw more attention to his daughter than necessary.

Their party reached the steps leading up to the Castle proper, servants and stable hands rushing forward to assist. Jeralt handed the reigns to the boy that came up to his destrier before dismounting, then reached up to lift Byleth out of the saddle. He held her tightly as the four of them were led to the throne room.

The servant leading them opened the doors and presented their party to the waiting royals.

“His Grace, Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius, Duke of Fraldarius. Lord Glenn Amsden Fraldarius, Heir of House Fraldarius. Ser Jeralt Reus Eisner, The Blade Breaker, Lord of House Eisner. And his daughter, Lady Byleth Ariana Eisner.”

“Welcome back to Fhirdiad, Duke Fraldarius. And to you, Ser Jeralt, Lord Glenn, Lady Byleth, I bid you welcome on your first trip here to the Capital. We are so very pleased you were able to make the journey for the Celebration.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Rodrigue responded for them all once they rose from their bows. “My Queen,” he added with another bow, “I am overjoyed to see you well.”

“Thank you, Rodrigue,” she responded with a smile, her hand resting on her stomach. “How is the Duchess? She is due soon as well, is she not?”

“She is, Your Majesty. Shortly after you, I believe. We are expecting the child in the Pegasus Moon. She extends her apologies at being unable to travel at this time. My sister as well, as she is attending to Ariana.”

“Of course, of course, no apologies necessary.” The King dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Will you be able to stay for the month, or will you need to return home?”

“As long as we don’t receive word from Castle Fraldarius, we will stay through the end of the Ethereal Moon.”

“Wonderful! We hope the child will have arrived by then,” Lambert added, with a smile towards his wife. “Now, you will be shown to your rooms, I’m sure you are tired from your journey. Please join us for dinner later this evening.”

The four of them bowed once more before following the same servant back out of the throne room and to their guest rooms. Only when Jeralt and Byleth were left alone did he allow the tension to release from his frame, and his grip on his daughter to loosen. He trusted Lambert (to a certain extent) but being here in the Capital was nerve wracking. He felt as though Byleth was going to be ripped out of his arms and stolen away at any moment.

This was the first time since announcing her Crest two years ago that Jeralt had taken Byleth out of the immediate area surrounding Castle Fraldarius. He knew it was necessary, he could not keep her locked away and hidden forever (as much as he wanted to), but he didn’t like it. And he doubted he would let her out of his sight during the month they planned to stay.

~~~~~

The days passed quickly in preparation of the Celebration. More nobility from across the Kingdom arrived each day and Jeralt avoided them as much as possible. He spent much of his days surrounded by his men. He took Byleth to watch them train and allowed her to play with her wooden sword. _Although,_ he thought as he adjusted her grip and gestured for her to continue, _it’s looking less like playing and more like actual training every day._ He had spent the past two years mentally training himself to think of Byleth as younger than she was, so as not to slip up when speaking of her. Jeralt knew he had no gift for wordplay, and he was a terrible liar. He tended to evade and avoid any questions he couldn’t answer truthfully, and he needed to truly believe something in order to be convincing. And so, he was constantly adjusting his thoughts, so they reflected the narrative they had created for the safety of his daughter.

Thankfully, due to its harsh environment, the Kingdom was known to train their children in weapons before teaching them to read and write. While Byleth’s supposed age was young, even by Kingdom standards, it would not draw more than a few raised eyebrows.

“May we join you, Ser Jeralt?” A voice said from the edge of the training yard.

The knight looked up from watching Byleth and made eye contact with Lord Lonato Gaspard. He sighed mentally, not allowing anything to show on his face. He knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid contact with other nobles for their entire stay, but he had hoped to postpone any interactions until the Celebration.

“Of course, Lord Lonato.” He made a small gesture out of Lonato’s sightline and Wesley casually walked over to replace him next to Byleth as he went to greet the lord. They clasped hands before Jeralt turned to the boy next to Lonato.

“This must be your son.”

“Indeed.” Lonato agreed, smiling softly and placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Introduce yourself, my boy.”

“Christophe Acton Lonato,” the boy said with a bow. “Heir of House Lonato. It is an honor to meet you, Ser Jeralt.”

Jeralt found himself grinning, courtly courtesies normally grated on his nerves, but they were adorable coming from children.

“Well met, Lord Christophe,” he said with a nod. He turned back towards Byleth, who was standing next to Wesley and watching them with her blank stare. “This is my daughter, Byleth Eisner.” He gestured for her to come closer, which she did, Wesley following behind her. He saw Carlyle on the other end of the yard casually checking over his bow, keeping a close eye on the situation, and Jeralt allowed himself to relax just a bit. “And my second in command, Ser Wesley Burne.”

They exchanged greetings, Byleth’s consisting only of a nod, before the Gaspard family joined them on the training yard proper.

Jeralt found himself, surprisingly, enjoying their company. He had met Lonato before, while in service to Rhea, and knew he was a pious man, but thankfully he didn’t seem to hold any grudge towards Jeralt for leaving the Knights of Seiros. Eventually, Lonato and Jeralt found themselves standing off to the side as Carlyle let Christophe try his bow, Byleth watching solemnly, still gripping her wooden sword.

“I have heard,” Lonato began, and Jeralt forced himself not to tense, “of the blessing the Goddess bestowed upon your daughter. But it has been through secondhand accounts only, and I would hear it from you. Is it true? She wields the Crest of Flames?”

“She does.” Jeralt said with a nod.

“Extraordinary.” Lonato said softly. “Truly extraordinary. The Goddess’ own Crest bestowed upon a daughter of the Holy Kingdom. A true sign of her favor,” he continued reverently. “You must be very proud, Ser Jeralt.”

“I am.” Jeralt said truthfully.

Across from them, Wesley had begun to explain the advantage of axes over lances to Christophe, with Carlyle extolling the virtues of bows above all, and a few other mercenaries chiming in with their own opinions. Byleth, ignoring them, returned to practicing with her sword.

Jeralt rolled his eyes fondly at the antics of his men, before explaining to Lonato, “Wesley is constantly trying to convert Glenn from the lance as well. He has been despairing over the lack of children interested in axes here in the Kingdom.”

“Well, all three of the lance Relics belong to Kingdom Houses, so I don’t know what else he would expect.” A voice chimed in from behind them. “He should meet Lord Dominic, he and Gustave can bond over their love of the most unwieldy of weapons.”

“Rodrigue,” Jeralt greeted with a nod. “I was wondering when you would join us.”

“Your Grace,” Lonato bowed.

“Jeralt, Lord Lonato,” Rodrigue bowed back. “Wonderful to see you again.”

Glenn slipped past them to join Byleth, and Jeralt watched as Carlyle winked at Christophe and helped him escape from Wesley’s lecture. The two boys introduced themselves before all three children began to train together. _Well, no,_ Jeralt corrected himself, as the boys seemed to invent a game on the spot, the three of them taking off, _play together._

He watched happily as the three of them ran around the yard, the boys laughing. Byleth’s face didn’t change, but she also didn’t abandon the game to continue training, which was tacit approval from her. He saw Christophe pause to lean down and ask her something, looking concerned, and she shook her head. Glenn interjected with a smile, throwing his arm around Byleth, and saying something in response to Christophe. The three resumed whatever it was they had been doing, Jeralt’s men keeping a close eye on them all.

“She is a very serious child.” Lord Lonato commented as the three men watched their children.

Rodrigue laughed, “Indeed she is! I blame Jeralt. Radella has her moments of solemnity, but Jeralt and Byleth take it to another level. Just last week I offered to have Ariana’s seamstress make a dress for Byleth to wear to the Celebration and she and Jeralt gave me these matching deadpan stares. Glenn nearly fell over he was laughing so hard.”

Jeralt rolled his eyes while Lonato let out a chuckle.

“It was a ridiculous suggestion, even Glenn knew that.” Jeralt added. “She would ruin any dress she wore within an hour.”

“Are she and the young Lord close?” Lonato asked.

“Glenn adores Byleth.” Rodrigue answered with a smile. “They are more like siblings than cousins.”

“That’s wonderful. Christophe has always wanted a sibling, but my wife’s health is too fragile to consider it. However, we have spoken of adopting, though at the moment we are focused on Christophe. Perhaps in the future…” Lonato trailed off thoughtfully, then waved the topic away. “And what of the Gautier brothers? I know their territory borders Fraldarius, are they close with your children as well?”

“I’m sure they will be, but we have not had the opportunity to visit since young Sylvain was born.” Rodrigue explained. “There have been several skirmishes with Sreng over the past two years, so the Margrave has not left his Castle. However, it has been quiet for the past few months, so we plan to host them for the new year after the baby is born. What of Count Rowe? Was he able to make it to the Capital for the Celebration this year?”

“No not this year, though I believe he sent Ser Gwendal to represent him. I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you for a spar, Ser Jeralt.”

“I would welcome it.” Jeralt said with a nod.

A sudden movement at the edge of the yard caught Jeralt’s attention.

“Byleth, down!” He shouted, and his daughter immediately dropped to the ground. “Carl!” But he needn’t have bothered with the command, as his bow knight had already let an arrow loose and pinned the sleeve attached to the reaching hand. In the back of his mind, Jeralt was surprised – he expected Carlyle to kill the man, but this was better. Wesley scooped Byleth up and pulled the two boys to stand behind him. In an instant, Jeralt had the tip of his lance up against the throat of the man, drawing a small drop of blood.

“Just let me touch her,” the man’s eyes were wide, but not with fright, and they were glued to Byleth. “Please. Please. The Goddess’ Chosen. Please.”

“What.” Jeralt growled, stepping further in front of the man to block his view of Byleth.

“The One chosen by the Goddess to bear her Crest. Please just let me touch her.”

“You aren’t going anywhere near my daughter. I should kill you for trying to hurt her.”

“No, never!” The man cried. “She is Chosen! To harm her would be against the Goddess’ will!”

“Who are you?” Rodrigue cut in. “Did someone send you?”

The man’s eyes seemed to clear somewhat as he registered the question. “I am a monk. I serve the Western Church. Send me? No, I just heard the Goddess’ Chosen was in the Capital and knew I must see her for myself. Touch her if I could.”

“That’s not happening.” He gestured to few of his men. “Take him away.”

“Please! Please let me—" they heard as the man was escorted roughly from the training grounds.

Jeralt took Byleth from Wesley and held her close. 

“A fanatic.” Lonato said with a shake of his head. “Not the last you’ll see of those like him, I’m sure.”

“Indeed.” Rodrigue agreed. “We should return to the Castle. I’ll inform Lambert what happened, to ensure security is tightened.”

“I’ll join you soon.” Jeralt said, needing a moment with Byleth.

Once Rodrigue, Lonato and their sons had left, Jeralt turned to Carlyle. “Nice shot. I was expecting you to kill him. Or maim him at the very least.”

“I would have,” the bow knight responded. “But he beat me to the shot.” He said with a nod towards a hooded figure at the edge of the training yard that Jeralt somehow hadn’t noticed.

The man was slight, with a dark green cloak draped around his shoulders. He had a longbow strapped to his back, and another bow held loosely at his side. He shrugged.

“Figured you would want to question him.” The man said in a soft, slightly raspy, voice that Jeralt had to strain to hear.

“And you are?” Jeralt questioned.

The man lowered his hood and put his bow away. “Hawk.” His face seemed to match the name, his features were sharp and angular, and his eyes were a soft amber. “Didn’t mean to cause a fuss. Heard there was a mercenary company here, thought I would see if you had room for a sniper. Didn’t know it was the Noble Company, or I wouldn’t have bothered.”

Jeralt frowned, then asked, “The what?”

The man, Hawk, glanced around then shrugged again. “It’s what they’re calling you. A company of mercenaries led by the Blade Breaker and his knights, the Noble Company.” The call of a bird had the man lifting his arm up, where a falcon landed lightly on the padded sleeve.

Jeralt felt the familiar tug on his sleeve and he looked at Byleth, she was already pointing and this time he knew what she was pointing at. “That’s a falcon. A hunting bird.” She tugged again, still pointing. Jeralt sighed, resigned. He looked up at… Hawk… _Goddess was that the man’s real name?_ Jeralt wondered before dismissing the thought. “Is it alright for us to come closer? My daughter wants to meet your bird.”

Hawk looked at Byleth and the two of them held eye contact for what was, in Jeralt’s opinion, too long. Then the falconer nodded once. Byleth nodded once back. Jeralt sighed again.

Looks like they were adding a sniper to their company.

~~~~~

Following that bit of excitement, the Celebration itself seemed calm in comparison. Jeralt remained tense and alert the entire time, uncomfortable in the presence of so many nobles. He carried Byleth the whole night, unwilling to risk letting her walk on her own with so many bodies crowding them.

The formal dinner was filled with courtly small talk discussing various goings on of the Kingdom, the Empire and the Alliance. Speculation of marriages and betrothals that had many of the nearby lords and ladies throwing thoughtful glances at both Glenn and Byleth. Jeralt barely held himself back from snarling anytime someone’s gaze landed on his daughter. 

It was an aspect of Byleth’s supposed high birth that Jeralt hated, the fact that he would be expected to decide her future for her. He had had many conversations with both Radella and Rodrigue about it and knew it may become a necessity for her own protection. But he would never like it. And he would ensure that there were contingencies in place if she found herself wanting something different for herself once she was older. He was thankful, due to House Fraldarius’ status, as well as Byleth’s supposed ancestry, that he was in a position to refuse any offer if he (or Byleth) so desired. _Well,_ he corrected mentally, looking at the King and his very pregnant Queen, _almost any offer._ But he knew Lambert would never force a betrothal, and he was the only one with enough power to do so.

Before he had left for the Capital, he and Radella had agreed that, should the King make an offer of betrothal of the new Royal to Byleth, they would accept. It was an offer of protection that could not be passed up, and Jeralt knew Lambert well enough to trust that any child of his would be raised to be honorable and kind.

The discussion around Jeralt soon moved on when it became clear that he would not be offering any bits of gossip regarding his daughter’s future. The nobles began debating the cause of the various sicknesses that were rampant in the Kingdom, but in the Capital especially. They praised some action of the Archbishop regarding orphans. They scoffed at the latest law passed by the Alliance’s Roundtable. They questioned what would become of the tension between the Western Church and the Church of Seiros. On and on until the meal was over and Jeralt was able to make his escape from their chatter.

The rest of the evening passed with music (that Byleth seemed to enjoy) and dancing (that Jeralt avoided at all costs) and more small talk (that they both ignored), before ending with fireworks and performers and a speech from Lambert about the strength of the Kingdom.

The weeks following the Celebration were much more to Jeralt’s tastes. Many of the nobles returned to their own Castles, only those who had been invited to stay for the birth remained. He and Byleth were able to avoid most of the formality of being Royal guests and went back to their usual routine of training with some informal meetings and meals with the King and Rodrigue. Overall, Jeralt found himself relaxing slightly and attempting to enjoy his stay in Fhirdiad.

On the morning of the 20th day of the Ethereal Moon, Jeralt awoke to the Castle’s bells ringing out the announcement of the birth of a new Prince of Faerghus. 

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.

Jeralt and Byleth were invited to the initial presentation of the Prince to the Royal Court, where the Prince was bestowed with gifts and well wishes from the highest ranking nobility of Faerghus. Jeralt had allowed Byleth to choose their gift back in Fraldarius, and he let her carry the box up to the Royal family. She presented it to the King solemnly and he opened it to reveal the dagger set upon the cushion inside, the Blaiddyd blue sapphire encrusted hilt glinting in the candlelight. Lambert smiled at Byleth and motioned her to come closer so as to meet the Prince properly, an honor he had not bestowed upon any of the nobles other than Rodrigue and Glenn.

Jeralt watched as Byleth gazed at the baby held in his mother’s arms. The Prince stared back before reaching out towards Byleth and gurgling. She looked first to Jeralt, then to the King, who nodded, still smiling, before reaching back and gently grasping the Prince’s hand. The Court broke out in coos and whispers and even Jeralt had to admit… it was pretty fucking adorable.

A few nights later found Jeralt and Rodrigue sharing a drink with the King in his private study. The Prince’s birth had led to more feasting and celebrating throughout the Capital, but the last of the visiting nobles had left earlier that day, and the Castle had quieted down to what Jeralt assumed was its usual level of business. Jeralt and Rodrigue were due to leave in the morning and so were enjoying a final quiet evening with Lambert without any of the formalities.

“How is the Queen?” Rodrigue asked, relaxing back into the couch with a sigh.

“She is recovering well. Exhausted, but well. We are both so very happy.” Lambert responded with a smile. “Our son is perfect. I never imagined I could love someone so much so quickly.” He said with a laugh.

Jeralt and Rodrigue exchanged glances, then nodded knowingly.

The three men sat in comfortable silence as they drank, then Lambert cleared his throat and Jeralt closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. He knew what was coming. It was all the Court talked about since the presentation ceremony.

“Jeralt,” Lambert began, “the Queen and I have been discussing the future we envision for our son. We hope for him to grow up kind and gentle and honorable, but most of all we want him to know love. We know that any match we make for him must also be for the good of the Kingdom, but we hope that it will be a match filled with love as well, just as the Queen and I have been blessed with each other.” The King smiled as he looked at Jeralt, then concluded, “We are hoping that you would be amenable to consider a betrothal between he and Byleth.”

Jeralt sighed, then took a fortifying sip from his glass before responding, “I am. However, I also want my daughter’s happiness more than anything, so I would need an agreement that should either Dimitri or Byleth not agree to this match once they are older, it would be able to be dissolved without any recriminations from either House. Otherwise, I would want to wait to make the agreement until they are old enough to decide for themselves.”

Lambert laughed, “I’m pretty sure that’s that most I’ve heard you say in all the years I’ve known you! And of course, my friend, I would not want either of our children to be forced into a marriage that brings them no joy.”

Jeralt gave a small smile in response, relaxing. “Radella told me what to say,” he admitted.

This time, both Rodrigue and Lambert laughed.

~~~~~

**Interlude, 1162**

Mycen dismissed the bishop from his study as soon as he finished his report. He seethed at the thought that the child was within the grasp of a member of the Western Church and yet not one of his own agents. What a wasted opportunity. Their grip on the Kingdom was still too weak. They had only managed to insert a few Agarthans within the members of the Western Church and some as low-level servants to various households, no foothold among the nobility let alone the Royal Court. They were already tightening their grasp on the Empire, but the Kingdom was too insulated and _loyal._ They needed a catalyst, something to create a crack in the foundation of the Kingdom to allow someone to _slither_ their way through the walls of _duty_ and _honor_ and _loyalty_ that protected Faerghus.

House Fraldarius would be ideal, but any attempts to insert one of their own among even the servants had been thwarted. Positions among that household were filled by members of vassal houses loyal to their liege lord. The child of the King of Liberation was currently out of their reach. Any more overt attempts to obtain her would tip their hand too soon. They had no leverage like what they were building in the Empire. But the Capital… that was more attainable. Perhaps they should focus their attention there and leave the child for the time being. They had the body of the King of Liberation for their experiments, and while a live specimen would be preferable, it was not necessary at this time.

 _Yes,_ Mycen thought, warming to the idea, _the Capital will be where we must aim our next step._

The Kingdom valued loyalty and duty, and any member they implanted would need to display some sort of service in order to endear themselves to the Royal Family. Perhaps… yes that could work. There was sickness aplenty throughout Faerghus but Fhirdiad especially, and it would only take some minor effort on their part to make a sickness turn into a _plague._

~~~~~

Rhea stood on the balcony overlooking the Monastery and watched those under her protection go about their day. Had it only been a few years ago that she thought it was all within her grasp? She had been so full of hope for the future, and yet here she was. More alone than ever. Her mother was gone forever, lost in the flames due to Rhea’s failure. Where had she gone wrong? Did her failure lie with her hubris? Her utter inability to trust those around her? She knew she had isolated herself. Refused to confide in even her most trusted Knights and Cardinals. But they would never understand. No one could. Her family was lost to her.

This path was not sustainable. She needed… she needed her family. _She needed her mother._ But that was impossible now. Even if the rumors were true and Jeralt’s new child bore her mother’s Crest, she would not be a viable vessel. Her mother’s heart was gone. Lost.

 _But you are not without family._ The thought came to her unbidden. _You are not the last._

Cichol.

Yes. Of course. She was not the last. Perhaps if she had someone she could trust she would not feel so _lost._

It was time to call her brother home.

~~~~~

**Pegasus Moon, 1162**

The birth of Felix Hugo Fraldarius was, in a word, _loud._ Ariana, who was normally rather soft-spoken, had screamed loudly enough for them to hear it down the hall, and the cries of the baby echoed after her, equally loud. Jeralt had his hands full making sure Glenn and Byleth (mainly Glenn) remained calm and untroubled throughout the labor and birth. Ensuring them that this was normal (Jeralt had no idea) and that everything would be fine (Goddess he hoped so).

Soon though, Radella came out to tell them that both Ariana and the baby were perfectly fine. Rodrigue following shortly after to bring Glenn in to meet his new baby brother. Radella, Jeralt and Byleth waited in the hallway for a short while, then were brought in as well.

Byleth was _fascinated_ by baby Felix. Jeralt had assumed she would be since she had seemed extremely interested (by Byleth’s standards at least) in the Prince, but that was nothing compared to her level of curiosity for her new baby cousin.

Castle Fraldarius seemed to be in a perpetual state of cheer. With the betrothals of Glenn to the new daughter of House Galatea as well as Byleth to the Crown Prince, not to mention the birth of a Fraldarius bearing a _Major_ Crest, the future of the House seemed sure and bright with the Goddess’ blessing.

Jeralt found himself caught up in the feeling as well. His Company was growing stronger and their reputation was growing with them. And while he still had mixed feelings regarding Byleth’s betrothal, he knew it would only benefit her to be so intricately connected to the Royal Family. The protection provided by her status was more than Jeralt could ever provide on his own, or even what being a member of House Fraldarius could provide. If, when she was older, she objected to the match, then Jeralt would have it dissolved in a heartbeat. But for now… for now he knew it was the right decision.

~~~~~

**Great Tree Moon, 1163**

The start of the new year was filled with celebration. Margrave Gautier had arrived at the end of the Lone Moon with his family to Castle Fraldarius to join in the festivities for both the new year as well as Byleth’s third birthday.

Jeralt was torn on how he felt towards the Margrave. He was a hard man, and Jeralt saw how that did not make for a good father, and he was constantly frustrated by the blatant favoritism he showed his younger son, but he was also coming to understand him and his position a bit more. He, Rodrigue and the Margrave spent most nights discussing the situation in Sreng as well as that of the Kingdom as a whole. It was an insight to the pressure placed on these noble houses that Jeralt would never fully understand.

But while Jeralt could respect the Margrave’s strength and sense of strategy that was necessary to hold the border, he would never consider him a friend. Ally, yes. He would do what he could to cultivate that level of familiarity, but never friendship. The way he was raising his sons was unacceptable and unsustainable.

“What’s going on here?” Jeralt asked as he walked up to the eldest Gautier son.

The boy froze, his eyes wide. “Nothing.” He said, too quickly. Eyes darting from Jeralt to his younger brother, who was pressed up against the wall in front of Miklan. “Right, Sylvain?”

“Right.” The Gautier heir said softly, his eyes downcast.

“Hm.” Jeralt hummed in response. “Sylvain, why don’t you go find Byleth? I think she’s with Glenn and the baby.” The boy nodded and ran off down the hall towards the nursery. Jeralt turned his attention to Miklan, who was attempting to leave in the other direction, but froze again once he saw Jeralt was looking at him. “I’m heading to the training yard,” he said, coming to a decision. “And you’re coming with me.”

Miklan’s shoulders slumped and he nodded.

They made their way to the yard where Jeralt’s men trained, the Gautier boy dragging his feet the whole way.

“What’s your weapon?” Jeralt asked, making his way over to the training equipment.

“I’m a Gautier.” The boy said.

Jeralt stared at him. “I know.” He responded, confused. They stared at each other for a few more moments before the boy seemed to realize that Jeralt was still waiting for an answer.

“I’m a Gautier,” he repeated, “so I use a lance.”

Jeralt frowned and said, “You’ll never wield the Lance of Ruin, so I don’t see what being a Gautier has to do with anything.” The boy _flinched_ as if Jeralt had struck him. _Right. Well. That was the wrong thing to say._ Jeralt thought to himself. He crouched down in front of Miklan and gently placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Sorry kid, didn’t mean it like that.” He said softly. “I just meant, that since you don’t have the pressure your brother does to wield a certain type of weapon, you can pick whatever you want. The fact that you’re a Gautier doesn’t have to define your weapon choice anymore.”

The boy _stared_ at him. Eyes wide and shocked, like this thought had never occurred to him.

“I-I don’t-I’ve never tried anything else.” He stammered out, glancing over the weapons rack.

“That’s fine.” Jeralt said, standing. “I prefer a lance myself, so we’ll start with those then move on to something else once I see what you can do.”

For the next few days leading up to Byleth’s birthday celebration, Jeralt brought Miklan with him to the training grounds. The boy seemed confused with Jeralt’s attention but joined him each day without complaint. It became very apparent to Jeralt that lances were _not_ Miklan’s weapon. Oh, he could wield one well enough, it was obvious he had had the forms drilled into his head, but he was far from a natural. Jeralt began drilling him with swords whenever Byleth joined them for training, but that didn’t seem to be a fit either. The kid was tall for his age, and already showing signs of the broad frame he would grow into, but he didn’t have the speed and dexterity necessary for either lances or swords. He frowned in thought as he adjusted Byleth’s stance.

“Here kid.” Jeralt turned back towards Miklan and saw Wesley taking the training sword from him and replacing it with the smallest training axe they had. “Trust me, you’ll never want to go back to those puny weapons once you get a taste of the best weapon there is.”

Jeralt rolled his eyes as he turned back towards his daughter but kept half of his attention on Miklan and Wesley.

And… well… huh. As quickly as Jeralt knew lances and swords weren’t the best fit for the boy, he knew that axes _were._ Looks like Wesley was finally going to get the protégé he’d always wanted. Now he just needed to have a conversation. Ugh. He hated those.

The Margrave was, thankfully, not difficult to convince. It seemed that Rodrigue had not been exaggerating when he explained that Jeralt’s reputation was respected among even high-born nobles. If anything, Margrave Gautier seemed surprised that Jeralt wanted Miklan as his page and was all too happy to agree.

And so, the next time they made their way to the training grounds, Miklan Gautier officially began his journey to knighthood under the tutelage of the Blade Breaker.

~~~~~

Jeralt and his small family gathered in their rooms after Byleth’s birthday celebration. He had one more gift that he wanted to give his daughter in private.

Radella sat on the bed with their daughter while he brought out the basket he had hidden. He walked back to the bed and placed it on Byleth’s lap before he lifted the cloth he had draped over it.

Byleth’s eyes went wide as she reached her hand in to gently stroke the sleeping kitten.

“Father?” She asked as she looked up at him.

Jeralt’s heart stopped. He heard Radella gasp softly. He tried to speak around the lump in his throat.

 _Father. Father. Father._ It echoed in his head like a second heartbeat. _Byleth’s first word._ He knew she would speak when she was ready, but he hadn’t thought of whether or not _he_ was ready.

“It’s yours, sweetheart.” Radella explained, her voice thick.

Byleth turned to look at her, then reached up to touch the tear that had fallen down Radella’s face.

“Mother?”

Radella sobbed, hugging Byleth close. Byleth looked to Jeralt again, eyes still wide. 

_Father. Mother. Looks like I’ll be starting a new list._

He cleared his throat and finally forced himself to speak.

“Those are good tears. We’re happy. Do you like your cat?” He asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to draw attention away from the fact that her parents were either crying or close to tears.

Byleth gazed at the kitten as it woke up and let out a yawn. “My cat.” She said softly, letting it sniff her fingers.

_Father. Mother. My cat._

Then her lips tilted up in the smallest smile as she nodded.

It was the most beautiful thing Jeralt had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked up proper ways of addressing royalty and it was all over the place. Different rules for different countries, shifting addresses based on the time period, etc. So I just went with what I thought flowed. It’s probably not accurate, but hopefully it’s not completely ridiculous.
> 
> I am assuming Fódlan’s calendar which runs from Great Tree Moon (April) to Lone Moon (March). Just in case that needed clarification.
> 
> And no – Hawk is not actually inspired by Hawk from Genealogy of the Holy War. I just liked the name.
> 
> This chapter’s outline basically consisted of “party-Dimitri!-betrothals-Felix!-party-squire-kitten!” and then I was stuck with trying to write that in a way that wasn’t _too_ choppy and all over the place. Not sure how well I succeeded, but I can’t stare at this chapter any longer and I just wanted to get it out.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! And your kudos! You all are awesome. Drop a comment if you feel like it. I’d love to know what you think! 😊


	4. Part II: Broken Fragments: The Spread of Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The years pass, and as those at Castle Fraldarius face new sorrows and challenges, Jeralt must decide the best path to take to ensure Byleth’s future.

_Part II: Broken Fragments  
Years 1165-1180_

_~ Chapter Four: The Spread of Sickness ~_

**Blue Sea Moon, 1165**

Life in Faerghus had never been easy. The land was harsh and unforgiving. Winters were long and harvests were poor. Sickness had always been prevalent, especially within the walls of Fhirdiad, but Faerghus had never seen anything like _this_. The plague swept through the Capital so quickly that thousands were struck down seemingly overnight and before a cure could even be attempted, the Queen Consort was dead.

Monks, Priests and Bishops from both the Central and Western Church were sent out to all territories within the Kingdom, attempting to heal those who were afflicted and stop the spread. But all healing seemed to be futile, and the death count continued to rise.

For months, there seemed to be no reprieve for those in mourning. The deaths continued to amass, and trouble within the Kingdom seemed to grow with it. Unrest was escalating and whispers of rebellion brewing within Fhirdiad began to sweep through the Kingdom.

Just when tensions seemed to be at a breaking point, news arrived at Castle Fraldarius of King Lambert hiring the services of a mage named Cornelia, who seemed to be able to treat those afflicted. With her help, the spread of sickness was halted, and eventually those stricken with the disease were able to be cured, but it was still too late for some.

“You told me once, years ago now, that you hoped I would never understand this pain.” Rodrigue said through the lump in this throat as the body of his beloved wife was prepared for burial. “I wish-I wish you had been right.” He said thickly.

“I do too.” Jeralt said as he led Rodrigue out of the room.

The funeral of Duchess Ariana Fraldarius was a somber affair. The weather was contrastingly beautiful as the late summer sun shone upon the grieving family as they made their way across the courtyard to her final resting place. The loud cries of Felix drowned out the softer sobs of both Rodrigue and Glenn, as Ariana’s body was laid to rest in the Fraldarius Crypts beneath the Castle.

Jeralt held a softly frowning Byleth as Radella attempted to console Felix through her own tears. Miklan’s hand was grasped tightly by Glenn throughout the whole ceremony, his other hand reaching for his baby brother whenever his cries rose in volume. Rodrigue seemed oblivious to all but the body being laid in the stone, attention never wavering even as his view was cut off by the final enclosing of her stone tomb.

~~~~~

**1166-1167**

In the two years following the Duchess’ death, Jeralt and Radella did what they could to lessen the burden placed on Rodrigue. Radella took on the responsibility of Lady of the Castle, and Jeralt only had his Company take contracts within Fraldarius Territory. And while, as time passed, the grief of losing such a beloved family member lessened somewhat, the mark that Ariana’s passing left on those within the Castle’s walls was prominent.

Glenn, once a boisterous, joyful boy, became more serious, training with Miklan and Byleth at any time he was not required to be with his tutors. His once carefree humor turning more sarcastic and his remarks more cutting. 

In contrast, Miklan seemed to think it was his job to balance out his two solemn friends. While Jeralt had noticed the boy opening up the longer he was away from his father, this level of cheerfulness was new, but not unwelcomed.

Felix, who had always loudly let everyone know when he was upset, became even more difficult to console. He remained extremely wary towards anyone outside of his family and already established friends. And even then, he was upset easily even by those he trusted.

And Rodrigue… Jeralt knew he had no talent for offering comfort or condolences. He also knew he was in no position to judge one’s grieving process, seeing as how it had been over seven years and he had yet to speak of Sitri to anyone. He had only recently been able to _think_ of her name. And yet, he knew that Rodrigue’s method of grieving was not sustainable.

The Duke traveled to the Capital for business more often than ever before, spending only a few weeks at a time within the walls of Fraldarius Castle. He barely acknowledged his sons even when he was home, and nothing Jeralt or Radella did seemed to help.

Indeed, Jeralt knew that something would have to change if Rodrigue wanted to salvage his relationships with the family that he had remaining, but he was unsure of how to explain that to his still grieving friend.

As though to contrast the growing distance between the Duke and those at Castle Fraldarius, Byleth seemed to have made it her mission in life to gather as many friends as possible. Jeralt had worried, when his daughter still only showed the barest of expressions and spoke as little as possible, that those around her would be turned off by these traits, but it seemed he had nothing to worry about. And while he was sure that every parent believed their child to be special, there truly seemed to be something about Byleth that drew others to her.

The men of Jeralt’s Company were both fiercely protective and constantly impressed by her. Even at seven years old she was showing remarkable skill with a sword, and all could tell that she would be a force to be reckoned with in battle when she was older. Carlyle and Wesley had become her honorary uncles, always willing to drop everything with a single look from her. Hawk, the mysterious sniper and falconer that had joined them a few years ago, had an ability to understand her that was rivaled only by Jeralt and Radella. They seemed to have entirely silent conversations and he had begun to teach her the whistles he used to communicate with his falcon (Byleth had seemed disappointed that she couldn’t use these sounds to communicate with _everyone_ since they were much preferable to words), as well as begun training her to use a bow (which Carlyle took great offence to and would take over her training at any given opportunity).

Glenn and Miklan had formed an unlikely friendship once Jeralt had taken the Gautier boy as his page ( _Squire soon_ , Jeralt thought, _Goddess, was the boy already twelve?_ ) and Glenn’s closeness with Byleth had extended to Miklan as well. The three of them were thick as thieves, since they shared most of their lessons together, as well as their training, they were hardly seen apart from each other.

Not one to be left out, Felix insisted on attaching himself to both Glenn and Byleth at every opportunity. He seemed to have taken Byleth’s ability with the sword as a personal challenge and, at five years old, was already showing promise. And while Miklan and even Glenn would often run off when Felix’s outbursts became too much, it never seemed to phase Byleth. She would sit quietly with him until he calmed down, or listen patiently as he shared his childish woes, then give him a nod or a pat on the head before handing him his training sword and showing him what she was currently doing in training. And, Jeralt was always shocked to see, it _worked_. While others would spend significantly longer attempting to console the young lord, Byleth always seemed to know how to cheer him up.

The only other one who showed such an uncanny knack for comforting Felix was the young Gautier heir. Sylvain, after that initial visit, had come down to Fraldarius Territory a few times a year to spend time with Glenn, Felix, Byleth and Miklan. The Margrave seemed content to allow him to cultivate friendships with the Fraldarius children and didn’t seem bothered by the fact he was reconnecting with his brother as well. Jeralt had kept a close eye on the interactions between the Gautier brothers, and had needed to have some stern conversations with his protégé during Sylvain’s first visit. However, the more time Miklan spent in Fraldarius, the less his bitterness seemed to affect him and as a result the brothers’ relationship seemed to have found an equilibrium of sorts. If anything, Miklan seemed to overcorrect in his protectiveness towards Sylvain, as if to make up for the way he had treated him his first few years of life.

While Felix had some level of hero worship for Byleth, he seemed to view her more as his rival in swordsmanship than his tutor, and the little amount that he did have was overshadowed by the hero worship that the young Galatea girl had for her. While Ingrid seemed closer with both Sylvain and Felix, she adored having another girl around who enjoyed training as much as she did. And while their friendship was probably vastly different than other young ladies of their station, Jeralt was glad to see that the two of them got along so well. He had also been pleased to see how Ingrid and Glenn seemed to both understand and happily accept their betrothal. He hoped that that didn’t change as they grew older, and that his own daughter would be just as pleased with the match made for her once she met the Prince properly.

~~~~~

**Garland Moon, 1167**

The entire Fraldarius household gathered in the Castle courtyard to greet the Royal party. It was the first time since the death of the Queen that the King and Prince had traveled outside of Fhirdiad, and the entire Castle had been preparing for the visit for weeks. Ingrid and Sylvain had both made the trip to Fraldarius in order to meet the Prince, and stood with the other children as they waited.

The Castle bells rang, and horns blew as the Royal party entered through the gates and Jeralt struggled not to role his eyes at the pomp and circumstance of it all. He apparently didn’t hide his disdain well enough, since Radella pinched him sharply on the arm she had rested her hand on. He gave her his most innocent smile, and she narrowed her eyes at him in warning, but she was smiling, so Jeralt figured he was forgiven.

As the King and Prince approached their household, they all bowed deeply until Lambert gestured for them to rise.

“Welcome to Castle Fraldarius, Your Highness, my Prince. We are so honored you were able to come visit.” Rodrigue said with a smile.

The King greeted him back then each member of the Fraldarius family as well, before introducing his son to those who had not met him. The Prince, at five years old, was already well versed in courtly courtesies and bowed regally (well, as regally as any child could) to each new member that he met.

After he greeted both Jeralt and Radella, he turned towards Byleth and, for the first time since he was introduced, seemed to forget what he was supposed to do. Jeralt bit his lip to keep from smiling as Byleth and the Prince stared at each other.

“Hello.” His daughter said softly. “I’m Byleth.”

“Yes. Hello.” The Prince responded. “I’m Dimitri.”

Jeralt saw Lambert attempt to stifle his own smile, though he didn’t quite succeed.

“I’m very pleased to meet you.” Dimitri said, then seemed to jolt, “My Lady. I mean, Lady Byleth.” He added quickly. Then bowed, albeit not nearly as smoothly as he had before.

Felix, not one to be left out for long, interjected with his own introduction, and the Prince finished the welcome with introductions to the rest of the children, although he seemed to sneak a glance at Byleth after each of the children introduced themselves.

Jeralt found himself reluctantly charmed by the adorably awkward Prince.

The rest of the Royal visit went as smoothly as the welcoming party did. That is to say, after some initial adjustments, the children all seemed to get along extremely well, and the Prince would find himself occasionally awkward and tongue tied whenever he spent time with Byleth. 

The children were all aware of the fact that Dimitri and Byleth were betrothed, but Jeralt was pleased to see that, like Ingrid and Glenn, they didn’t seem phased by the knowledge, and integrated Dimitri into their established friendships. Felix jealously guarded the time he spent with Byleth and Glenn, especially for sword training, but reluctantly allowed the Prince to join them on occasion, which was his version of glowing approval and overture of friendship. Dimitri joined Ingrid and Sylvain (and occasionally Miklan) for their lance drills, and Glenn, Ingrid, and Sylvain for riding lessons.

When they weren’t training, the children could be found exploring the Castle and its grounds or playing games of dragons and princesses and knights in the gardens. The older boys joined them on occasion (often to play the dragon), though Glenn’s studies and Miklan’s squire duties kept them busy. Byleth seemed to drift equally between joining Glenn and Miklan or joining the other four children in whatever activity they had planned for the day. And she seemed perfectly content to spend her days like that. 

The exception to this was the time she spent with Jeralt fishing. Byleth had never before brought the other children, and Jeralt had enjoyed the time that seemed to be just for them. However, a couple weeks into the Prince’s stay, Byleth surprised Jeralt by requesting they bring him along with them. The results of that initial trip were a few broken fishing poles, curtesy of the Prince’s accidental Crest activation, and few actual caught fish. But Byleth was smiling (the Prince seeing her smile had resulted in one of the broken fishing rods), and Jeralt would do anything to see his daughter smile.

The Royal family stayed at Castle Fraldarius for the remainder of the month, before traveling back to the Capital with a promise to visit again in the future, and an open invitation to host them in Fhirdiad. However, in the coming years, visits to and from the Capital proved to be scarce.

~~~~~

**Horsebow Moon, 1168**

“The Gautier party will be arriving within the week. The Margrave has sent what men he could spare to guard his wife and son on their journey here, but they will be returning to the border as soon as possible. You and your Company are tasked with their protection in addition to the protection of the Fraldarius Dukedom while I lead the army to aid Radcliffe. And the protection of our children, of course.”

“Rodrigue.”

“Lambert and the Royal Knights should be joining us at the border before the end of this month. He chose to keep Dimitri in the Capital, so you will not have to worry about protecting the Crown Prince at least.”

“Rodrigue.”

“Radella and the household staff will handle any correspondence that arrives, but I have asked them to leave all military matters in your hands. If-“

“Rodrigue!” Jeralt cut him off sharply, raising his voice. Then he continued calmly, “It will be fine. We have been over this and are as prepared as we can be. You need to turn your mind towards the campaign. You know you cannot allow distractions in the midst of battle. Dell and I will handle everything here. And you know I will protect the children with my life.”

Rodrigue took a deep breath then nodded. “Of course. Of course. I know you have it handled. I will leave it in your capable hands.” He said as he turned to see if his horse was ready.

“Rodrigue,” Jeralt whispered, stopping the Duke from mounting, “say goodbye to your sons.”

Rodrigue winced, hearing the reprimand in Jeralt’s voice, then turned back once more to give the rest of the family his farewells.

“I will return before you know it. This Sreng uprising will be dealt with like all those that have come before. Take care of your brother and your cousin and help your Uncle Jeralt if he asks.” He said as he hugged his eldest.

“Of course, Father.” Glenn responded.

The Duke kissed Byleth’s forehead, ruffled Miklan’s hair, then hugged Radella and Felix before finally mounting his horse and leading the Fraldarius knights out of the Castle and turning their army north towards Gautier territory, the Aegis Shield gleaming softly where it rested against his back.

Life at Castle Fraldarius continued as it had for the past few years. While Jeralt was unhappy with the amount of time Rodrigue insisted on spending in the Capital, his absences made the adjustment easier while he was away during the campaign. He and Radella had already been handling much of the day-to-day happenings of the Castle and its household, and the children were used to Rodrigue being gone for long periods of time.

On Miklan’s fourteenth birthday, Jeralt offered him an official position as his squire, which was gleefully accepted, then led him to the stables to show him his gift.

“I know it’s not the typical mount for those of us in the Kingdom, but I think you’ll do better with her rather than a horse.” He said as he opened the stall door.

Miklan stared in shock at the small wyvern who wiggled excitedly before pouncing on him, bringing them both to the floor. He stroked the small horns on her head as she pressed up against him.

“She’s mine?” He asked Jeralt.

“She is.” The knight responded. “Bought her from a breeder over in Daphnel Territory. She’s obviously too small to ride, but apparently, it’s better to get them young and train them up before attempting that. We’ll keep her here in the stables for a bit, then build a pen big enough for her out with the Pegasi.”

Miklan nodded, still stunned, then readjusted the small wyvern in his arms and stood up, before awkwardly bowing with a squirming wyvern almost tipping them over again.

“Thank you, Ser Jeralt.”

“Sure thing, kid.” He responded, ruffling his squire’s hair. “Happy birthday. Now, part of your squire training will be taking full responsibility for her. Including her training. I’ve instructed the stable hands to leave her alone, so you’ll have to make sure to take care of her, understood?”

“Yes, Ser.”

“Good. You can start by naming her.” Jeralt said with a smile.

Miklan smiled down at his new wyvern and declared, “Rowena. Her name is Rowena.” He looked back up at Jeralt and asked excitedly, “Can I go introduce her to everyone?”

Jeralt nodded and watched Miklan run off with his wyvern in his arms.

Rowena was, unsurprisingly, a hit with the other children. Sylvain and Byleth were especially taken with her but seemed uninterested in requesting a wyvern of their own, for which Jeralt was thankful. He shuddered thinking of what a menace his daughter would be on the back of a wyvern.

~~~~~  


**Harpstring Moon, 1170**

The campaign in Sreng lasted almost two years. News from the front lines was scarce, but while the fighting seemed to stretch on, it was apparent that this was not a fight that the Sreng would win. Despite several skirmishes over the past many years, their armies were unaccustomed to Faerghus weather. Still, they refused to retreat entirely, and the Kingdom army dared not pursue them into the mountains that separated the border.

The reports of the campaign drawing to a close came on the heels of rumors regarding the _Shield of Fearghus_ and how Rodrigue had earned the moniker by saving the life of King Lambert. Soon, they received word of the Kingdom army’s triumphant return from the border, and with it, Jeralt began discussions with Radella regarding plans for his Company and their family.

Byleth’s tenth birthday had come and gone. (Her favorite gift being that of a dagger sent from Dimitri to mark the occasion. The blue sheathed weapon had a permanent home on Byleth’s hip.) She was now at the age Jeralt had begun taking Miklan out on contracts, and her training had progressed to the point where Jeralt was confident she would handle herself well out on the field. He and Radella had many conversations regarding the wisdom of bringing her with him, or keeping her at Castle Fraldarius, but ended up determining that it was up to her.

Jeralt was unsurprised with Byleth’s decision to join him and continue her training amongst his Company, the surprise came when he was approached by Miklan regarding his own plans.

“I want to attend the Officer’s Academy when Glenn does.” His squire told him, nervously winding his wyvern’s harness around his hand, as Jeralt observed his training with Rowena. The wyvern was high above them as she broke in her new saddle that accommodated her (hopefully) full grown size. “If we wait a few years, we can go at the same time.”

Jeralt nodded in encouragement, unsure why Miklan was so tense. “That makes sense. Sound choice. You may be knighted by then, but there shouldn’t be any issue with you attending even after being knighted. You’re thinking of going when Glenn is seventeen? You’d be nineteen at that time.”

Miklan nodded, glancing up at Jeralt as if to gauge his reaction. “You don’t mind? I know you left the Knights of Seiros…”

“Ah hell kid, that has nothing to do with this. My reasons for leaving… well that’s neither here nor there. Attending the Academy seems to be the done thing by you nobles, and the things you’ll learn there will serve you well.”

Miklan seemed relieved with his answer but didn’t seem to be finished. “And… would you consider it to be a good choice for Byleth as well?”

Jeralt frowned in thought. He honestly hadn’t thought of sending Byleth to the Academy. He had hoped to keep her out of Rhea’s view for as long as possible. But would it be more suspicious _not_ to send her? As he said, it was the done thing, for nobles to send their children there. It would look strange if her friends and cousins attended without her. Perhaps even strange enough to draw Rhea’s attention. But if he acted as though he had nothing to hide (as Rodrigue had drilled into his head), and sent Byleth along with the other children…

Miklan appeared to have grown more tense with Jeralt’s silence, so he answered him with a slow nod. “I would be willing to consider that, as long as it was something Byleth wanted to do. Perhaps she could attend with Sylvain, or even the rest of them if she’s willing to wait that long.”

His squire nodded but interjected quickly, “Or she could attend with Glenn and I?”

Jeralt blinked. With Glenn and Miklan? If they waited the five years they were planning to wait… she would only be fifteen. Did they allow students that young? He voiced his question aloud.

“Oh.” Miklan seemed to deflate. “Is that too young? I suppose we could wait another year or two. Glenn wants to squire with a Royal Knight, and that may delay our attendance..." He straightened and continued determinedly. "Glenn and I would like to attend at the same time as her. To make sure we’re there to look after her.” 

Jeralt smiled at his squire, but countered, “I am hoping, by the time she attends, she will be able to take care of herself, no?”

“Well yeah. But you always say it’s best when you have someone you trust to watch your back. And I’m pretty sure Sylvain wants to attend with Felix and I don’t think she would want to wait that long.”

“Hm.” Jeralt nodded in agreement, the kid had really thought about this. “And you and Glenn are in agreement?”

“Oh definitely.” Miklan said, nodding furiously.

“Well kid, I think I need to have a conversation with Byleth then. See if it’s even something she’s interested in. If so, I’ll petition the Academy to allow her early attendance. I still have some connections there after all.” He ruffled Miklan’s hair and gave him his duties for the rest of the day, before heading into the Castle to find Radella and Byleth.

While what he said was true, he also needed to have another conversation with his daughter. For, if she was going into the heart of the Church of Seiros, there were some things she needed to be aware of.

~~~~~

Byleth was easy enough to find, she and her cat (who she had creatively named Cat back when Jeralt could count the number of words she spoke on one hand) were sitting on the dock of the closest fishing pond, where she had already caught a few and allowed Cat her pick.

He brought her back to his study, Cat trailing behind her faithfully, where Radella had brought up some cake from the kitchens, which caused Byleth to gift them with her rare small smile.

He and Radella had been debating telling Byleth the truth for years. Perhaps, in another life, one where Byleth only had Jeralt and knew nothing of her heritage, he would have told her of Sitri. He would have told her of the awful day where it had seemed to him that nowhere would be safe for his new daughter. He would have told her of the way Sitri had smiled when she was pregnant, how the two of them made such happy plans for their future and the family they would build together.

But in this life… in the life where Rodrigue had stepped in to offer them safe haven. In the life where Radella had become Byleth’s mother in all but blood. In the life where she was as safe as she could be, with a family who loved her, friends who adored her, and a future rife with possibilities… It was safer for her to know only the narrative they had created to protect her.

And so, Jeralt told her of Sitri, but as his first wife and the mother of her half-sister, who died at a tragically young age, before Jeralt had even named her.

He told her of how Rhea had experimented on him a long time ago, and as a result, his heritage from the King of Liberation was awakened, and he was able to pass on the Crest of Flames.

He told her why the rest of Fódlan believed what they did about why her Crest had manifested, and that she must ensure they continued to believe that.

He explained their reasoning for not having another child and how happy Byleth had made them, and how they would have loved for her to have siblings.

Throughout it all, Byleth listened intently, eating her cake slowly while petting the purring Cat on her lap, nodding whenever they asked if she understood.

“It’s ok. I have Glenn and Miklan and Felix. They’re my siblings.” She frowned slightly. “Do they know?”

“No.” Radella said softly. “None of the children know. We wanted it to be up to you who to tell. Your uncles know, Cedric knows, and King Lambert knows. But that is all.”

Byleth nodded. “I’ll tell Glenn and Miklan, but Felix is too young still. I’ll tell the rest of them later.”

“That sounds like a plan, kiddo. Now, the reason we’ve decided to tell you this now, has to do with what you want to do in the future. Glenn and Miklan have decided to attend the Officer’s Academy in five years. They are hoping you would attend with them.”

Byleth blinked, then agreed that she would like that.

“Ok.” Jeralt took a deep breath. “Then you need to promise me that you’ll be careful. You can’t do anything to draw too much attention to yourself. You can’t give Rhea any reason to suspect that what she did to me has anything to do with why you bear your Crest. It’s only because of your mother’s Fraldarius blood. Understood?”

Byleth nodded seriously. “I promise.”

“Then that’s settled. You’ll spend the next few years alternating between spending time on jobs with me and continuing your formal education here at Castle Fraldarius in preparation for the Academy. The three of you will each be taking a battalion of men to learn how to lead battle tactics, Glenn will be taking some Fraldarius knights and soldiers, whereas Miklan will need fellow flyers. I’ll be contacting the Margrave about that. As for you, we’ll see which members of our Company would work best with you.”

“Hawk.” Byleth interjected softly.

Jeralt chuckled. “Yeah, I had a feeling you would want him to go with you. Carlyle too, I think.” He trailed off thoughtfully. “But that doesn’t need to be decided for years. Until then, we’ll continue with your training as usual, sound good?”

Byleth nodded. And that was that.

~~~~~

_Byleth dreamed._

_The girl slept on the stone chair as she always did._

_Byleth sat at the foot of the chair in silence, as she always did._

_It was the same dream she had been dreaming for as long as she remembered dreaming._

_Until suddenly, it wasn’t._

_The girl woke up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor edits were made to the previous chapters. Also, I realized I wanted chapter titles… so those have been added!
> 
> Regarding Miklan, I’m hoping you all don’t mind me giving him some love. The Miklan in canon was awful, I won’t argue that, but the Miklan here was removed from his toxic environment and given a place to belong and thrive. He also had not gotten to the point of abusing Sylvain (the well and mountain abandonment hadn’t happened yet), only speaking harshly to him, which, of course, is also unacceptable, but he was a kid and Jeralt corrected his behavior and he changed. The joy of AU’s!
> 
> I did very rudimentary research on falconry and I don’t think they actually communicate with their birds in whistles… but whatever. I liked the idea of Byleth preferring to whistle than to talk so in this fantasy world, they do.
> 
> This chapter was DIFFICULT. It’s the only one I have that spans such a long period of time, but there wasn’t enough for me to justify splitting it up. I even ended up cutting out a bit at the end, so there’s going to be a time skip. I mainly just wanted to hit the major events that shape Byleth and her friends and then move on rather than detailing out all the years, but I’m afraid it might come across as disjointed and a lot of telling rather than showing… hopefully it’s ok! I figure you all are as ready as I am for this story to move along. This was the final transitional chapter before we really get into things. I’m already 9k words into chapter five.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! Your comments and kudos keep me going!
> 
> Up Next: Byleth at the Academy! As a student! (*gasp*)


	5. Part II: Broken Fragments: The Academy of Officers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth finds herself at the Officer's Academy. Armed with her father's warnings and her two best friends to watch her back, she steps into the heart of the Church of Seiros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Age Reference:  
> Byleth - 15 (supposedly, she is actually closer to 16 but will be referred to as the age everyone, including herself, believes her to be)  
> Glenn - 17  
> Miklan - 19  
> Holst - 19  
> Balthus - 19  
> Leopold - 18

_Part II: Broken Fragments  
Years 1165-1180_

_~ Chapter Five: The Academy of Officers ~_

**Great Tree Moon, 1175**

Byleth gazed up at the impressive sight before her. Garreg Mach Monastery was just as magnificent as the stories had made it sound. The Cathedral’s towers seemed to stretch up to the clouds, and the walls surrounding the Monastery were as impressive as those of Fhirdiad.

Miklan whistled. “Not too shabby.”

“Really, Miklan?” Glenn snorted derisively, “Is that all you have to say?”

“What else is there to say, oh wise and fearless House Leader?”

“Try not to let your jealousy show, Gautier.”

“Hah! Please,” Miklan responded with a role of his eyes, “as if I would want to be forced with _responsibilities_ and being our classmates’ _role model._ That sounds exhausting. Right, By?” He said, throwing a wink towards Byleth.

She shrugged in response, then added, “Glenn will lead us well.”

Glenn gave her a small smile, “Thank you, cousin. At least one of my friends appreciates my leadership abilities.”

Miklan rolled his eyes again. “Ugh. Fraldarius’ family loyalty.”

“Oh, as if you don’t take Sylvain’s side in every argument?”

“That’s different! He’s my baby brother and I have to protect him. Whereas you apparently need your little cousin to defend you.” He teased.

Glenn raised an eyebrow before responding dryly, “Byleth could beat both our asses no problem, and you know it.”

Miklan nodded thoughtfully, “True. Honestly, why didn’t the Academy make _her_ the House Leader? She’s our future Queen!”

Glenn and Byleth both turned to look at the redhead pointedly.

Miklan choked on a laugh before coughing and grinning at Byleth. “Right. Talking. Not really your strong suit. Fair enough.”

“Not to mention, she’s probably going to be the youngest student at the Academy this year. And I still outrank her, technically. At least for another ten years or so.” Glenn said, reaching from his horse to nudge Byleth’s shoulder playfully. “I need to enjoy it while it lasts.”

The three of them rode through the open gate entrance leading into the marketplace where there seemed to be several members of the Church welcoming the new students and directing the influx of travelers. They dismounted, handing the reigns over to waiting stable hands, and walked up to the area marked with the Blue Lions banner. After giving their names, they were told their dormitory assignments as well as given their school uniforms, before being directed to the battalion guild leader to register their men and get their assigned barracks.

Byleth passed the information over to Carlyle who saluted her with a wink before he and Hawk led the battalion of men her father had sent with her to their barracks. After Miklan and Glenn finished with their own men (Miklan’s flyers taking a bit longer to situate since Miklan insisted on inspecting the area where Rowena and the other wyverns would be stabled) the three headed up to the second-floor dormitory.

They had been given a few days to settle in so as to allow all the students to arrive, and the three of them spent their free time exploring the Monastery grounds. Byleth had made a bee line to the fishing pond her father had told her about, but Miklan and Glenn only allowed her a few hours before dragging her off to have dinner with them and continue exploring. She retaliated the next morning by waking them both early to train with her.

By the time the school year officially started, Byleth had become well acquainted with the fishing pond, training grounds and dining hall, and had explored a majority of the other areas open to students. However, due to her father’s warnings, she had hardly spent any time in the Cathedral and had avoided the faculty hall entirely. She knew Glenn had made an effort to meet the incoming Blue Lions, as well as make contact with the other two House Leaders, and was thankful that she had no such obligation.

The Blue Lions gathered in their classroom to meet the professor assigned to them, a man from the Empire named Hanneman, whose Crestology research made Byleth exchange wary glances with both Glenn and Miklan, before being informed of the traditional mock battle between houses at the end of the first month.

“Training weapons only, of course. The Knights of Seiros will be observing to determine when a student is ‘down for the count’ so to say.” Their professor explained. “As such, we will spend these first few weeks going over everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, as well as participating in some training exercises. Your House Leader will be choosing which three students will join both he and I on the battlefield. Now then, you are dismissed for the day, we will reconvene tomorrow to begin. Miss-ah-Lady Eisner, if you would remain behind for a few moments?”

Byleth sighed internally, but nodded, glancing over at Glenn and Miklan, who stayed in their seats and pretended to be deep in conversation.

“Now, Lady Eisner, I have heard the rumors but was wondering if you would be willing to allow me to confirm them for myself? Having the opportunity to study such a rare Crest…” he trailed off, mumbling to himself. “Anyhow, if you would follow me to my office, we can begin. It won’t hurt a bit. Promise.”

Byleth considered him for a moment. She was wary of anyone who showed too deep an interest in her Crest, but she also knew the importance of being on the good side of authority figures.

“No blood?” She clarified.

Hanneman stared at her blankly. “Beg your pardon?” He asked.

Byleth frowned slightly, throwing a glance towards Glenn, who clarified for her.

“Excuse my interruption, Professor, but if you would allow me to explain?” Hanneman startled slightly, as if only now noticing the other two students in the room with them, before nodding at Glenn to continue. “We had several instances, while growing up, of Crest scholars and Church fanatics alike attempting to, well, kidnap Byleth. Once it became clear that she was well protected by both her father and House Fraldarius, they settled for attempting to steal her blood instead, not that that proved any easier for them. Of course, we are not suggesting that you would do such a thing, but we have learned to be careful. We wouldn’t want your research, or Byleth’s blood, to be stolen from your office if anyone discovers that it is there. You understand?” Glenn finished with, what Byleth considered, his best ‘trust me, I’m a future Duke’ face.

Hanneman blinked at Glenn, then looked back at Byleth in shock. “That’s terrible! Simply unacceptable! For my fellow scholars to do such a thing… well, I apologize on their behalf, little that that means. And… well… I feel as though, in light of this information, I must admit to you that I… well, a large part of why I chose to teach the Blue Lions this year was in the hopes of being able to study and observe your Crest. I see now how inconsiderate of me that was and I apologize. And while blood is necessary for some levels of Crest research, much of it can be done without… and of course, if you are uncomfortable with it… well, I would understand if…” He trailed off, wincing, as if unable to completely withdraw his request.

Byleth looked towards Miklan, who shrugged, then at Glenn, who was studying Professor Hanneman intently. He met Byleth’s gaze and gave her a short nod.

“Alright.” Byleth responded to her professor. “I would appreciate learning more about my Crest. We haven’t been able to trust any Crestology experts since identifying it.”

Hanneman stared at her for a moment, then responded in a quieter voice than he had used before, “And you are… trusting me?”

Byleth tilted her head, she had thought that was obvious, but she clarified, “You are my professor.” It would be a long year if she discovered that her trust was misplaced, but she figured a small leap of faith wasn’t unwarranted in this situation.

Hanneman blinked again, then straightened with a determined look. “Indeed I am! You are entirely right, my lady, and I will ensure you do not regret it. All my research regarding your Crest will remain confidential and I will keep it in my locked file whenever I am not working on it. You have my word as a scholar. Now, shall we begin? I would like to start by confirming your Crest with the device in my office and perhaps asking you a few questions.” He began walking out of the classroom, before pausing and gesturing at Miklan and Glenn, “Of course, if it would make you more comfortable, Lords Fraldarius and Gautier are welcome to join us?”

Byleth shook her head, figuring she may as well begin to display the trust she had decided to give her professor. Hanneman smiled brightly at her in response and continued on his way.

“We’ll save you a seat in the dining hall, By.” Miklan said cheerily, then asked in a quieter voice once Hanneman was out of the room, “How long should we wait?”

Byleth frowned a bit in consideration. “Twenty minutes.”

The boys nodded before they split off and Byleth made her way up to the faculty offices.

_And what, pray tell, will they do if you are not at the dining hall in twenty minutes?_ The familiar voice startled Byleth somewhat, though she didn’t allow that to show on her face. She hadn’t heard Sothis since leaving Castle Fraldarius, and in her dreams for the past couple weeks she had always been sleeping.

_They’ll come up to his office to see if I’m there, and if I’m not, they’ll alert Carlyle and Hawk._

_Goodness. Do you truly not trust those in power here at the Academy?_

_There are few who I do truly trust, you know that. But no, especially not those here at the Monastery. You know what father said. You know what they did to him, and what happened to my little sister._

_Indeed. Although I was under the impression that was the work on the Archbishop… what was her name again?_

_Rhea. And yes, that’s why I’m even considering trusting Hanneman. We hope she was working alone._

_Well alright. I suppose your paranoia is justified. You aren’t going to tell him about me, are you?_

Byleth sent what translated as a mental raised eyebrow. _I don’t tell anyone about you. Even father only knows about the dreams._

_Good, good._ She felt Sothis yawn and struggled not to follow suit. _I feel as though… it’s not yet time… but I…_ She trailed off, and Byleth sensed her fall back asleep.

Byleth had dreamed of Sothis for as long as she could remember. Her recollection of her childhood was hazy, only flashes of time spent with her family and friends, and the same dream of a sleeping girl in a large stone chair. It wasn’t until she was ten years old that the girl woke up, and Byleth’s mind seemed to almost wake up with her. Since then, her memory had greatly improved, and she found it slightly easier to express herself, though only those closest to her seemed to notice a difference.

It took years before Sothis remembered her own name, let alone woke up outside of Byleth’s dreams. It was something that Byleth knew wasn’t normal, but as with anything that seemed abnormal about her, she tended to assume it had something to do with her Crest. As she had told Hanneman, her family had refused to let any Crestology researchers study her, and knowledge regarding the Crest of Flames was scarce at best. She and Sothis had speculated over her existence, hypothesizing that she might be an imprint of a previous Crest bearer, perhaps even the spirit of her little sister who died before Byleth was born, but had since accepted the fact that they may never know and might as well enjoy their co-existence.

Thankfully, the visit to Hanneman’s office proved to be brief. As promised, he only asked her a few questions about her Crest after confirming it with his device. After explaining the effects she had noticed so far, and a promise from Hanneman to keep her updated on anything he found out, Byleth made her way to the dining hall to join her two best friends.

The rest of the month passed quickly as Byleth found a rhythm for her stay here at Garreg Mach. Other than the change of instructors, it was similar to life at Castle Fraldarius, only with a wider range of study materials available and experts in several different fields. Her combat instructors were adequate, if a bit thrown off by her level of prowess with the sword, given the fact that she was younger and smaller than the rest of the students by a fair margin.

This fact seemed to bother a fair few of her fellow Blue Lions, who seemed to take afront whenever she beat them in a spar, or when she responded to their questions and comments with her usual level of verbosity (that is to say, none at all). She knew Glenn and Miklan did their best to bridge the gap between her and her classmates, but it didn’t bother her, and she only put in minimal effort when it came to her interactions with anyone outside of the few closest to her. She figured they would get used to her or they would leave her alone, since it wasn’t like she was planning to change.

She was thankful to see that Hanneman, despite his interest in her Crest, didn’t treat her any differently than the rest of his students. He was extremely skilled in magic, which Byleth had already determined she would take advantage of during her year as his student, since she hadn’t had the opportunity to study magic at all while growing up.

Overall, Byleth found herself settling into life at the Academy, and even looking forward to coming months.

The day of the inter-house mock battle found Byleth and her fellow Blue Lions assembled in a field near the Monastery. Professor Hanneman went over the rules once more, before Glenn selected Miklan, Byleth and a student who had seemed passingly skilled at archery (Harry? Hadden? Henry?) to join him and Hanneman. There was some low murmuring among the students left out over his choices, but no one spoke out against it.

The horn blew to signal the start of the exercise. Hanneman had explained that he would be providing support, but that it was up to Glenn to actually direct his fellow students. They had been positioned on the south side of the field, which held some good cover, and Glenn immediately set up a defensible formation among the trees to see what the other houses would do.

The students from the Empire seemed to have a similar idea as their House Leader (eldest son of the Minister of Military Affairs, from what Byleth had heard) began to move towards their own cover, though Byleth couldn’t see from her position whether it was for offensive or defensive purposes. Were they going to move through the trees and come down towards the Blue Lions, or were they planning to hunker down and hold position?

As it turned out, they didn’t get the opportunity to do either, as the students from the Alliance immediately went on the offensive, their pink-haired, axe-wielding House Leader leading the charge with an impressive battle cry. Byleth was surprised to see that the Black Eagles had apparently been able get their more defensive units to take his initial blows, though she heard the Knights call out for one of them to head off the field.

“Bad move.” Byleth whispered.

“You think so?” Glenn asked softly. “They managed to take down one, and it looks like Bergliez got hit by a couple of the Deer’s archers.”

“Hm.” Byleth agreed. “But now Pink Hair and his brawler are in range of the mages.”

Glenn blinked at her and Miklan snorted. “Pink Hair?” Glenn asked, incredulously. “You mean Goneril?”

Byleth nodded. Sure enough, Pink Hair, or rather, Goneril ( _Holst Goneril,_ she recalled, _eldest son of Duke Goneril._ ) was taken out by the mages who had been behind Bergliez, though the brawler seemed to have surprisingly high resistance to the spell sent his way. But then the mages were in range of the Alliance archers and Byleth could see how the next few rounds would play out.

“We need to advance.” She told Glenn.

“Yeah.” He agreed, obviously noticing what she had.

The five of them had advanced to the next point of cover by the time one of the Eagles’ mages was taken care of and Bergliez’ retaliation had taken out one of the Deer’s archers. Glenn had their own archer (Byleth really should know his name by now) take out the final Alliance bow wielder with a curved shot while Byleth moved up with Miklan to take out Professor Manuela and Glenn and Hanneman advanced on the brawler. With that, the Golden Deer were off the field and the Black Eagles were down to Bergliez, a mage who had already taken some hits, and their professor.

In the end, the Blue Lions ended up winning the mock battle without a single loss. And while Byleth was pleased with their performance, she knew it had mostly been down to luck and positioning that Goneril had gone for the Black Eagles first, rather than them. Still, she joined with the rest of her classmates for their celebratory meal afterwards and congratulated Glenn on a job well done.

Their year at the Officer’s Academy was off to a good start.

~~~~~

**Blue Sea Moon, 1175**

Byleth made her way through the crowded marketplace, cursing herself for not bringing Miklan with her, his tall stature tended to help clear the path for her in situations like this. She had hoped her errand would be quick, but that didn’t appear to be possible with the amount of people in front of each of the merchant stalls.

The Goddess’ Rite of Rebirth Ceremony was in a few weeks and pilgrims from across Fódlan had already begun to make their way here. Byleth had underestimated the amount that would be here already though, and she vowed not to venture back to the markets until after the Ceremony was complete and all these visitors were gone.

She dodged the man who had been about to run into her, bumping into someone on her other side, but the arm that reached out to grab her took her by surprise. _Stupid._ She thought to herself. _Stupid mistake._

“It’s you. Isn’t it?” The man’s eyes were wide, and all at once Byleth knew he was another one of _those._

“No. Let me go.” She said, reaching for her dagger, but the man’s other hand grasped her arm and he tried to drag her closer. When she refused to budge, he stepped into her space.

“It is. I can tell. It’s such an honor. I’ve been wanting to meet you for _years.”_ He continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

There wasn’t much room to maneuver among this crowd, but Byleth still knew she could break his hold and was preparing to do so when a large hand landed on the man’s shoulders.

“I believe the lady asked to be let go, pal.” She glanced up (and _up_ ) to see a fellow student reaching over from behind her. She was pretty sure he was the one she ran into in an attempt to dodge this guy.

“I’m not bothering her, am I, Your Holiness?” He asked Byleth in a breathy voice.

“Yes. You are. And if you don’t release me, I will break your arms.” She replied with a deadpan glance down at his grip on her.

The student behind her let out a loud guffaw. “You heard the lady!”

The man released her with a huff, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Fine. I must have been mistaken. Now kindly return the favor.”

The student obliged, but Byleth then reached out and grabbed him herself.

“Excuse me!”

“No.” She replied dryly, pulling his hand out of his pocket and reaching her own hand in.

“What are you-“ She pulled out the handkerchief she found, glanced at it, then placed it in her own pocket, before drawing her dagger and pressing it between the man’s legs. He froze. She stepped in close, to make sure the passersby didn’t notice her knife, and noted her fellow student doing the same.

“Who sent you?” She asked him quietly.

He gulped, glancing down at her dagger.

“I can cut you faster than anyone would come to help. Answer me.”

“I-I don’t know.” She added a bit of pressure. “I swear. I don’t know. There’s a ransom out. I don’t know who ordered it.”

“How would you have delivered it?”

“There are-uh-drop off points.”

“Payment?”

“U-upon confirmation of-of the source.”

She stared at him.

“That’s all I know, I swear!” He said, sweating.

She nodded and felt the man start to relax. “Very well.” She sheathed her dagger and released the man’s arm. She watched him as he walked away, then glanced up towards the walkway by the stairs leading to the Entrance Hall where one had an overview of the entire marketplace. As she had known he would be, Hawk was watching, casually leaning up against the wall. She nodded at him and he disappeared amongst the crowd.

“Well now.” The student said, in a much quieter voice than he had used before. “That was interesting.”

She looked up (and _up_ seriously how tall was this guy?) at him and gave him a nod. “Thanks for the help.”

“Sure thing, pal. Although you obviously had it handled.” He said, still looking at her shrewdly. “Name’s Balthus. Balthus von Albrecht.”

“Byleth Eisner.” She responded with a nod. She recognized him as the brawler that seemed close with the Golden Deer House Leader.

He frowned in consideration, obviously trying to place her name.

“Huh. Well, Miss Eisner? Lady Eisner?” He asked with an eyebrow raise.

She gave him a small smirk and responded, “Byleth is fine.”

“Hah!” He laughed. “Well then, _Byleth,_ would you be so kind as to explain what that was all about?” He asked quietly.

She stared at him for a bit, but he didn’t back down, so she nodded then added, “Mind if I finish my errand first?”

“Sure thing, pal. I’ll join you.”

Thankfully, there were no further incidents with the other travelers (although Balthus’ admittedly intimidating presence may have had something to do with that) and Byleth and Balthus were able to finish their errands and return to the relative safety of the Monastery.

“Mind if we speak in the dorms?”

“Bit forward of you, isn’t it?” Balthus asked with a grin.

She gave him a deadpan stare. “I’m fifteen.”

He balked at her. “Seriously? Damn. I just thought you were short.”

She shrugged. “I’m that too.”

He laughed, before gesturing for her to lead the way.

Balthus was on the second floor as well, so they stopped at his room first to drop off his items before proceeding down the hall. Glenn and Byleth’s rooms were next to each other, with Miklan on the other side of Glenn, so she figured she would knock on the wall of Glenn’s room to get Miklan to join them if they ended up needing him.

Balthus frowned a bit when she knocked on the door, then raised his eyebrows when Glenn answered.

“Didn’t know you were into that sort of thing.”

Glenn narrowed his eyes at him. “She’s fifteen.”

Balthus raised his hands in surrender. “Right. Yes. Sorry, pal, force of habit. Don’t actually mean anything by it.”

Glenn continued to stare at him before turning his gaze to Byleth.

“There was an incident. Balthus helped me out.” She explained.

“Not that she needed it.” Balthus added with a laugh.

Glenn nodded before opening his door wider to allow them entry, then closing it behind them.

“Miklan’s on sky watch duty.” He explained when she threw a glance at the wall between their rooms. Right, she had forgotten about that.

Byleth shrugged in response. “We can fill him in later.” She said as she took a seat on Glenn’s bed, leaving the desk chair for Balthus.

“Sounds good.” He nodded, then turned and bowed to Balthus. “Glenn Fraldarius, Royal Knight and Heir of House Fraldarius, at your service. Thank you for assisting my cousin.”

Balthus raised his eyebrow at Byleth at that bit of information. “No problem, pal. Balthus von Albrecht, Heir of House Albrecht.”

Glenn gestured for Balthus to take the chair, then joined Byleth sitting on the bed.

“What happened?”

She pulled the handkerchief out of her pocket and handed it to Glenn. “Someone out for the ransom.” She said as he unfolded the cloth to see the stain of her blood. “He came up to me in the market, pretending to be a fanatic.”

“The cut?”

She held up her arm, showing him where her sleeve was cut slightly where the man had grabbed her, probably some sort of hidden finger knife popular among cutpurses. The wound beneath was already healed over thanks to her Crest.

Glenn inspected the area, then nodded. “The man?”

Byleth shrugged. “Questioned him, then sent Hawk to tail him.”

Her cousin nodded again. “Good. Any new information?” She shook her head. “And you?” He directed his question towards Balthus.

Balthus had been watching their interaction intently but flashed a bright grin at Glenn’s question.

“The little lady bumped into me, when I looked over to make sure she was alright, all I saw was some guy grabbing a woman and refusing to let her go.” He shrugged. “So I figured I would give her some back up. Then I heard her questioning him and my curiosity was piqued.” He glanced between the two of them. “But if this is family business, feel free to tell me to fuck off.” He winced, glancing at Byleth. “Excuse my language.”

Byleth stared at him. “I threatened to cut a man’s dick off in front of you.”

Balthus let out a booming laugh. “That you did! I suppose it would take a bit more to phase you.”

Glenn sighed. “Please don’t try to find out what that might be. Her father would kill me.”

“Right,” Balthus said with a grin.

Glenn looked over at Byleth, tilting his head in question. She nodded, having already made the decision before bringing Balthus here.

“I trust you can be discreet?” He asked, turning back towards Balthus. “It’s not a secret, per say, in fact it is fairly well known in the Kingdom, we just try not to advertise it, especially here.”

Balthus glanced between the two of them. “So, it’s a rare Crest then?” He said knowingly.

Glenn nodded. “The Crest of Flames. Her father is Ser Jeralt, the Blade Breaker, descendant of the King of Liberation.”

Balthus whistled.

~~~~~

Byleth had no desire to attend the actual Ceremony, and while Glenn felt he had an obligation to make an appearance, he hadn’t stayed long, and had since joined she and Miklan in participating in the other events available to the public.

The three of them were currently making their way down to the Holy Mausoleum with a group of fellow students. Since the chamber was closed the rest of the year, they had figured they should at least take a look while they had the chance. They were planning on visiting the food stalls afterwards, and Byleth was looking forward to that much more than seeing Saint Seiros’ tomb.

The Mausoleum itself was awash with the glow of countless candles reflecting in the gleaming marble of the floors and pillars and tombs. There was a small choir singing softly in a corner alcove, the music echoing pleasantly throughout the chamber. Their group had been sent down with one of the Church’s bishops, and he led them through the various resting places of past Saints, sharing small bits of their most well-known deeds as they made their way to the back of the Mausoleum where a singular tomb had a place of prominence.

Byleth felt an itch start to prickle at the back of her neck. She had to resist the urge to draw her sword… only… she didn’t have her sword with her (did she? Why did she feel as though…?). Instead, she casually folded her arms behind her at the small of her back so that her hand rested against her dagger, but that didn’t lessen the feeling whatsoever. Instead, the itch crawled down her spine and there was… humming? Was it the choir? No, they were still singing. This was a continuous sound that seemed to grow ever slightly louder with each step she took. She glanced at Miklan, then Glenn, but neither seemed to be aware of anything out of the ordinary.

_Sothis? Wake up._ She sent a mental prod that they had developed in order for her to get Sothis’ attention.

_Hmm?_ Sothis’ sleepy voice responded, before seeming to jolt to awareness. _What is that? Where are we?_

_The Holy Mausoleum. And I don’t know, no one else seems to hear it._

_It sounds… familiar… but I don’t…_

Their group stopped at the base of the stairway leading up to what had to be the tomb of Saint Seiros. Byleth’s gaze was transfixed on the marble casket and had to resist the urge to take a step closer. Was the humming…?

_It is coming from the tomb._ Sothis said, a slight tremble in her voice.

_I was afraid you were going to say that._

Their guide’s voice was droning on about the importance of Seiros but Byleth could barely hear it over the sound echoing in her head and seeming to reverberate down to her chest.

_It’s calling to me._

_Indeed. But it is not yet time._

_What?_ Sothis sounded so sure. Her statement coming with none of her usual sleepiness or confusion. _Time for what?_

_I-I don’t… I am unsure. But I know… what do I know? Why did I…_

Byleth started slightly as she felt a hand rest against where she had been unknowingly gripping her dagger, thankfully still sheathed. She glanced to her side to see Glenn giving her a soft frown of confusion. She blinked, feeling her mind refocus on the present, and noted Miklan standing slightly in front of her, as if to block her view of the bishop and the tomb. The humming had died down and was now a soft mental caress in the back of her mind where Sothis’ mental presence usually resided. The urge to move closer had faded as well and the tightness in her chest had loosened. Byleth relaxed her grip, took a deep breath, and nodded towards Glenn who glanced around before returned his gaze to her, still frowning. She shook her head.

“Later.” She said, softly enough that only her two friends would hear.

The bishop had apparently finished extolling the virtuous deeds of the Saint and the group of students was dispersing to either continue exploring the Mausoleum or make their way back. The three of them headed back up the stairway leading to the Cathedral before making their way out to the bridge where it would be impossible to be overheard.

Glenn and Miklan frowned in thought once Byleth finished explaining what she had felt (excluding Sothis’ contribution). The tenseness she had experienced had faded completely once exiting the Holy Mausoleum, but she could still hear a faint humming if she listened for it.

“It was worse the closer you got to Saint Seiros’ tomb?” Glenn clarified. Byleth nodded her confirmation. Glenn and Miklan exchanged glances before Glenn continued, “Sometimes, when I’m close to the armory at Castle Fraldarius, I feel a faint… something. Like a pull? Or almost like a gesture to get my attention out of the corner of my eye… but mentally? I’ve never been able to explain it. Father says that Crest Bearers are connected to their Relics and when it was time for me to wield the Aegis Shield, I would understand.” He and Byleth both threw apologetic glances at Miklan, who shrugged.

“You guys know I don’t really let that bother me anymore. Seeing the pressure that Sylvain is under… well it almost makes me thankful not to have to deal with any of that. Now, my only regret is that my baby brother has to deal with it instead. I get to live with many of the benefits of being a Gautier without any of the responsibilities. Any way you slice it, it’s just not fair. It makes me wish it just wasn’t a factor at all, even though I know that’s impossible.” He finished with another shrug. He frowned again, countenance going thoughtful in a way he rarely allowed to show in front of anyone outside of their trusted friends and family. “When I’ve visited Castle Gautier, there have been a few times when Sylvain has gone… strangely silent? Like he’s listening to something that I can’t hear. He’ll trail off in the middle of sentences or stop in the middle of the hallway. Whenever I ask him about it, he brushes it off. But it would make sense if it had to do with that blasted Lance. He hates talking about anything to do with it, especially to me.”

Byleth and Glenn nodded, aware of the complicated feelings Sylvain had regarding his Crest and the Lance he was burdened to bear someday.

“So, it’s a Relic?” Byleth asked, seeing the parallels of what they shared with what she had experienced earlier.

_“The_ Relic, if my guess is correct. The Sword of the Creator hasn’t been seen since Nemesis was defeated by Seiros. It would make sense for you to have a connection with it, for obvious reasons. What I don’t understand is why it would be buried with _Seiros.”_

“Maybe that was the safest place for it?” Miklan guessed. “Not like they could just keep it out in the open or stored in the armory. The Holy Mausoleum is typically locked up tight. And as you pointed out, no one would go looking for it in the tomb of Saint Seiros.”

“True.” Glenn agreed. Then he turned a considering gaze towards Byleth. “Being the descendent of Nemesis, and the bearer of the Crest of Flames, you have more right to it than the Church. You could petition for it to be released to you.”

_No. It is not yet time._ Again, Sothis’ voice was sure, though Byleth could sense that she was confused by her own surety.

Byleth shook her head. “I don’t want to draw more attention to myself or my Crest. Besides, it’s not like I need it. After our time here I’m planning to help dad with the Noble Company until Dimitri graduates from the Academy as well. Perhaps later, once…” She trailed off. While she and Dimitri were betrothed, King Lambert and her father had held off on any official announcement. Even if most of the nobility in the Kingdom Houses knew about it, there was an understanding that it was still up to Byleth and Dimitri to make the final decision, and the timing of such an announcement was up to them.

Miklan grinned, “You’re going to be a badass Queen of the Kingdom no matter what, but can you imagine if you also had the Sword of the Creator?” He cackled slightly, and Glenn began to grin as well.

“That would be quite the betrothal gift if Dimitri or King Lambert were able to get it for you. A bit better than the dagger he gave you for your tenth birthday.”

Byleth frowned slightly, placing a protective hand over the hilt of said dagger. “I liked his gift. I gave him one too, if you recall.”

Glenn nodded, still grinning, “Oh I recall. I was there when you gave it to him! Your exchange of daggers is adorable. But unless the two of you are planning to start some sort of collection, you’ll probably have to give something else for the next big exchange.”

Byleth tilted her head in consideration. A dagger collection sounded pretty great actually.

_Oh honestly._ Byleth could feel Sothis’ eye roll. _That is hardly a romantic gift._

_We gave each other protection. How is that not romantic?_

_You have such a strange view of the world._ Sothis said with equal degrees of fondness and exasperation.

She and Dimitri exchanged gifts on their birthdays every year, but she had been planning to give him something special when he turned fifteen in two years. She had turned fifteen a few days before coming to the Academy, and he had apparently been considering sending a Royal Knight to become her retainer before her father shot that idea down. Dimitri then planned to buy her a horse, but that had been what her father bought her, so the Prince had had to settle for gifting her with a saddle. According to Glenn, he had been rather distraught with the thought that Byleth would take it as a slight. She hoped her letter thanking him had put that fear to rest.

Byleth gave herself a mental shake to return to the topic at hand. “Well, now we know. I have no need nor desire to pursue the Relic right now, so no need to dwell on it.”

Glenn and Miklan nodded in agreement. “Should I inform father? Or will you be telling Uncle Jeralt?” Glenn asked. “Or no, we should wait and tell them in person. It’s stayed hidden and protected for a thousand years, so it probably wouldn’t be wise to speak of it in a letter.”

Byleth agreed, and the three of them walked from the bridge to the marketplace where several food vendors and entertainers had set up. The further she got from the Mausoleum, the quieter the hum became. And at the end of the day, when the doors leading to the Holy Mausoleum were sealed once more, it disappeared entirely.

~~~~~

**Wyvern Moon, 1175**

The trip to Gronder Field took up the better part of a day, and so a camp had been set up for those from the Academy to rest the night before the Battle of the Eagle and Lion was to take place. Byleth had hesitated to call it a “camp” since it was nothing like what she had experienced whenever she had to camp with her father and the Company during their mercenary contracts, or even what the Blue Lions set up during their monthly missions. The tents were lavish, and the spread of food was almost equal to what was offered in the Dining Hall at the Monastery. Furniture had been packed in carts and set up prior to their arrival, and servants from the Monastery bustled about to accommodate the needs of many of the noble children.

Byleth, Glenn and Miklan waved off any offers, and she took a look around at the area for the other Houses. Balthus and his pink-haired friend ( _Goneril,_ Byleth reminded herself) were helping unload one of the food carts, whereas the Black Eagles seemed to have already settled in and were gathered around Bergliez, who seemed to be gesturing towards a map. _Strategy meeting. There’s an idea._ Byleth turned towards Glenn, but he seemed to have seen the same thing she did and began to call their fellow Lions to go over their tactics for the next day.

The Inter-House battle began with the sound of trumpets after Lady Rhea’s opening speech. They knew the ballista in the center of the field would be the main point of contention, but the Blue Lions didn’t have enough defense heavy members to be able to hold it against the likes of Bergliez, Goneril and Balthus. Instead, Byleth and Miklan led half their class through the cover on the east side of the field, while Glenn led the other half straight towards the central hill. Their feint paid off, as Byleth and Miklan were able to eliminate several of the Black Eagles in a pincer maneuver as they attempted to intercept Glenn at the ballista.

However, their lead didn’t last long, as Miklan was soon taken out by Golden Deer archers once they reached the hill. Goneril and Balthus cleared out the rest of Bergliez and his fellow Empire students before Byleth was able to reunite with Glenn and the rest of their house. It seemed Goneril had learned from his mistakes during the mock battle, since he was much more systematic in his approach to their covered positions. The Blue Lions were unable to withstand the assault and were soon whittled down. They had lost a few of their members in their gambit against the Black Eagles, whereas the Golden Deer had managed to take the central hill with very few casualties. So even as they held their own, the outcome was clear.

Eventually, Goneril managed to get a good hit on Glenn, who was called off the field, and Byleth was the last Lion standing. She dodged the arrows sent her way as she went to take down Balthus, who couldn’t match her speed, then managed to dodge Goneril’s retaliation. She knew she wouldn’t be able to do much damage to him, and instead went for one of the archers who couldn’t counter at such a close range. However, Goneril didn’t let her try that again, and even as she managed to find the vantage to land a hit on him first, he was able to take her out with his follow-up attack, knocking the wind out of her.

“The winner of this year’s Battle of the Eagle and Lion is… the Golden Deer!” She heard announced as she struggled to sit up. “The House with the most points and winner of this year’s prize is… the Blue Lions! Congratulations to you all on your spectacular performance!”

A hand was suddenly in front of Byleth and she glanced up to see Goneril grinning down at her.

“ _That_ was impressive.” He said as he helped her stand. “I should have listened more closely to Balthus when he said you were the one to watch out for. You’re just so tiny! You remind me of my little sister, although she would never move as quickly as you did. It’s a chore to get her to move at all!” He chatted happily as they joined the rest of the students on the edge of the field.

“By! You were great!” Miklan said as he scooped her off the ground in a hug.

“You too.” She said softly as the redhead placed her back on her feet.

“Well done cousin. You made us proud. If my count is correct, we only managed that prize by one point. So you made the right call at the end.” Glenn said, smiling at her.

Byleth gave him a soft smile in response, then turned back towards Goneril and Balthus, who had joined them.

“Congratulations.” She told them both with a nod. “You did well.”

Goneril’s smile dimmed slightly as he frowned a bit, glancing at Balthus then at Glenn and Miklan.

“Er, thanks?” He responded, before continuing, “I’m sorry if I hit you too hard at the end there. I figured I would only be able to get one shot on you and I had to make it count.” He was gripping his training axe tightly in front of himself and giving Byleth a once over in obvious concern. “Are you alright? Do you need me to carry you to Professor Manuela?”

Byleth frowned in confusion before shaking her head. “I’m fine. It was a good hit.”

Goneril looked like he was about to cry, and Byleth took a step back in alarm. Then Miklan and Glenn burst into laughter, which seemed wildly inappropriate (and they said _she_ was socially inept). But then Balthus was grinning and throwing his arm around Byleth before clapping his hand to Goneril’s shoulder.

“From what I’ve seen of the littlest Lion, her face just does that naturally. She’s not upset Holst, and she doesn’t hate you now that you’ve hit her.” He said with a laugh.

Byleth blinked, looking towards Miklan and Glenn, who were still chuckling.

“You had on your resting murder face.” Miklan explained, grinning. “I think Goneril here thought you were genuinely offended that he dared to land a hit on you.”

Byleth shook her head, turning back to Goneril and offering him a slight smile. His face lit up and he threw his arms around Byleth and Balthus in a hug that threatened to do more damage than he had managed in the battle. Once he released them, he spun around, shouting for Bergliez.

“Leo! Get over here! We’re going to celebrate!”

“Don’t call me that.” The Bergliez heir said as he joined them. “Also, the Black Eagles are the only House that doesn’t have anything to celebrate.” He added with a roll of his eyes, dodging Goneril’s attempts to hug him too. He turned towards Byleth, bowing. “We haven’t been introduced. I am Leopold von Bergliez, Heir of Count Bergliez.”

“Byleth Eisner.” She responded with a small bow back.

“Congratulations on winning the prize,” he said with a nod towards Glenn. Then turned back to Goneril. “And to you too Goneril, I guess.”

Goneril laughed. “I’ve told you to call me Holst! That goes for the rest of you as well, we’re all friends here!”

“Are we?” Bergliez said under his breath. Byleth let out a quiet snort in amusement, which was apparently louder than she thought since the boys all turned to her in surprise. Bergliez grinned, while Goneril (Holst?) clutched at his chest dramatically.

“Was that a laugh? That was adorable. Can I adopt you? You’re my new favorite. Other than my little sister. Who is perfect and therefore can never be dethroned of her place in my heart.”

Glenn gave Bergliez a considering look. “She doesn’t laugh very often, so I guess you’re alright, Bergliez.”

“Thanks.” He responded dryly. Then shrugged, “I guess that means you can call me Leopold. Not you Goneril.” He added offhand as the group made their way over to where the rest of their Houses had gathered by the food.

The three House Leaders made their way through the crowds, congratulating their classmates on their performances, while Byleth, Miklan and Balthus found seats for them all. Once it became clear to all that there were no hard feelings, the mood turned celebratory and the three Houses mingled amongst each other easily. The tables filling with members from differing Houses as match ups from the battle were recounted dramatically. Members from her own House (and Holst for some reason) rose a toast or two in her direction, especially once Glenn was presented with the prize, and she made an effort to relax her face and offer them a small smile in response.

The next day had them traveling at a leisurely pace back to the Monastery, and Byleth found herself enjoying the company of her new… friends? Holst was loud and seemed to wear every emotion on his sleeve, but he was genuinely kind and (once acclimating to Byleth’s own lack of emoting) seemed to enjoy having Byleth as a captive audience to his stories of his little sister and their life at the Throat. Balthus was his usual boisterous self, and she saw how he and Holst had become such good friends. After she and Glenn had given Balthus the basics of her situation, he had shared his own experiences of growing up with a rare Crest and Byleth had found a bit of a kindred spirit when it came to their opinions on the entire system. However, they differed in their outlooks of family duty and obligation as a Crest Bearer, since Balthus was apparently hoping to eventually abdicate if his brother was willing and Byleth… well, if anything she was planning to accept even _more_ responsibilities.

Leopold was by no means quiet, but his personality was more subdued than the two Deer, and Byleth appreciated his dry wit and humor. He had apparently met Holst before the Academy when they were much younger but refused to admit that they were friends. He shared a bit about his own younger brother when prompted by sibling stories from Glenn, Holst, Miklan and Balthus, and while it seemed to Byleth that he and his brother were very different, it was clear that they were close.

“And you, Little Lion? Any adorably serious siblings?” Holst asked her with a grin.

Byleth gave him a dry look, the nickname had apparently stuck, then shrugged and shook her head.

“I have Glenn and Felix.” She responded.

“Hey!” Miklan exclaimed.

She rolled her eyes fondly but added, “And Miklan.” Then she tilted her head in consideration. “And Ingrid, in a way.”

“Ingrid?” Leopold inquired.

“My betrothed.” Glenn said with a smile. “She adores Byleth. I think part of the reason she’s so excited to marry me is to have Byleth as a sister.” He laughed, throwing his arm around Byleth.

Miklan chuckled as well. “Yeah, we all know she’s just putting up with you for the chance to be closer to By. Sylvain, on the other hand, adores Byleth as well, but does _not_ see her as a _sister._ I’m pretty sure he’s hoping the betrothal to His Highness falls through so that he can sweep her off her feet.” He and Glenn laughed and missed the startled looks exchanged among the other three.

“You’re betrothed to the Prince?” Holst asked, blinking in surprise.

Byleth nodded slowly.

“How have we not heard _that?”_ Leopold asked dryly. “Seems it would be quite the news.”

She saw Miklan wince slightly, realizing what he revealed, but Glenn waved the question off blithely in an attempt to downplay his slip. “It’s not an _official_ betrothal yet, more of an understanding between their fathers. The King and Uncle Jeralt want Byleth and Dimitri to have the choice. However, it is official enough that any other House inquiring over Byleth is rebuffed.” He threw a smirk towards Miklan. “Including House Gautier.”

Miklan shook his head in mock sadness. “Much to the dismay of Sylvain.”

“Well,” Leopold said with a wry look thrown towards the three Lions, “if it’s not _official_ then that makes sense it hasn’t made the gossip rounds yet.” He shrugged, adding, “No reason to bring it up amongst our classmates or families. Might end up being misinformation in the end. I do hate to look foolish.”

Balthus laughed. “Got that right, pal. Don’t want to bet wrong. Can’t trust a source that’s proved erroneous.”

Holst glanced between the two of them, then looked back towards Byleth, who smiled slightly at his befuddled look. However, he seemed to take her smile as approval of Leopold and Balthus’ comments.

“Of course! We will keep the Littlest Lion’s secret. You can trust us.” He said with a determined look and a nod towards Byleth.

Leopold rolled his eyes. “Subtlety is lost on you Goneril.” He muttered.

Byleth smiled at them. “Thanks.” She said softly, glad that this wasn’t going to become something else that held her apart from her peers, something to be scrutinized and gossiped about by those who had never even met her. While she understood that would be an inevitability, should the betrothal go through, she appreciated the opportunity to be as normal as possible for a bit longer.

~~~~~

**Ethereal Moon, 1175**

“What.” Byleth stared at Hanneman and Glenn, sure she had misheard them.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, cousin! You’re a fantastic dancer.” Glenn said with a grin. “We’ll win the Cup for sure with you representing us!”

Byleth gave him an incredulous look. “I’m a terrible dancer. Uncle Rodrigue gave up on forcing me to attend those lessons when I nearly stabbed our instructor.”

Glenn waved her comment away dismissively. “Nonsense. That was years ago. Besides, you’re so graceful and charming now! The judges will love you.”

Hanneman was nodding in agreement as if what Glenn said made perfect sense. Which it didn’t. He had obviously spent too much time in the sun if he was talking crazy like this.

_I also think it’s a wonderful idea._

_That’s just because you want to see me dance._

Sothis giggled. _Well, if you had indulged me before now, we wouldn’t be ganging up on you like this._

_You all just want to see me make a fool of myself._

_Nonsense child. You’ll do wonderfully. I’ll help you._

Byleth sighed.

Glenn grinned wider, obviously sensing Byleth’s capitulation.

“That’s settled then!” Hanneman said, clapping. “I’ll inform Manuela of our representative immediately. There will be a few lessons beforehand, but I’m sure you’ll do fine. Now, I came across an interesting hypothesis while researching your Crest…”

After answering some of her professor’s questions, Glenn and Byleth headed to the training grounds where Miklan was going through axe drills with Holst and Leopold. Balthus had apparently finished his own training and was throwing out unhelpful comments from the sidelines. They joined the brawler where he was standing and waited for their friend to finish before they all went to the dining hall for dinner.

“Wait, what?” Miklan said, before laughing so hard he almost fell off the bench. “She nearly stabbed our dancing instructor when she was nine!”

“Thank you.” Byleth said with a nod, then turned to her cousin. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

Glenn was glaring at Miklan and apparently kicking him under the table, if Miklan’s wince was anything to go by.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s just jealous because he continued with those dancing lessons and is still awful at it.” He said after it seemed Miklan was sufficiently punished. “You’ll be great. We’ll win for sure.” He added, throwing a smirk towards Holst and Leopold.

As much as Byleth would have liked to prove Glenn wrong, her competitive nature wouldn’t allow her to simply throw the competition. And so, in the end, her cousin ended up being correct (much to his smug satisfaction) and Byleth won the White Heron Cup.

Afterwards, the judges insisted on commending all the participants with a feast and Byleth found herself unable to escape several well-meaning classmates congratulating her on her victory. She did her best to hide between the bulk of Miklan, Holst and Balthus, which seemed to work relatively well, much to the amusement of her friends.

“Miss Eisner! Miss Eisner!” One of the judges called to her, making his way through the crowd of students and towards their group. Byleth sighed, hoping she wouldn’t be forced to give an acceptance speech or anything like that. Glenn stepped between her and the knight once he reached them, effectively forcing him to come to a stop. His face was a mask of noble pleasantry.

“Ah, that would be Lady Eisner, if you please, Ser Knight.”

The knight blinked before responding, “Of course! Of course! My apologies, my lady, I was simply so excited to meet you! I wanted to find you earlier, but I’ve been away on a mission. I barely made it back in time to judge the Cup! Which would have been a shame, since it’s my favorite event of the year!”

Byleth forced herself not to grimace.

_Another goddess fanatic?_ Sothis asked disdainfully.

_I hope not._

“Hello.” She said, halfway hidden behind Glenn with the other boys forming a protective barrier behind her.

The knight didn’t seem to notice her entourage, merely smiling brightly at her before bowing.

“My name is Alois. I was so excited when I heard you were attending the Academy!”

Byleth started slightly, before stepping out from behind Glenn so that the knight could see her fully.

“Ser Alois? My father’s first squire?” She asked.

“One and the same!” The knight said cheerily. “I see he mentioned me! Of course he would! Why I was practically his right-hand man! Well, that’s how I saw myself anyway.” He laughed.

Byleth found herself relaxing. Her father _had_ spoken of Alois, and he had been sure that he had nothing to do with Rhea’s schemes. Jeralt had even mentioned thinking of asking him to leave with him, but knew the newly knighted man would have been heartbroken to leave his life’s ambition of being a Knight of Serios.

She gave him a small smile. “Yes, he did speak of you. Very fondly. It’s nice to meet you.”

Alois blushed, grinning widely at her. “And you! As soon as I heard you would be attending, I had plans to greet you immediately! At the gates even! Unfortunately, I was called away to a mission shortly before the school year began. I only just returned. But here you are! All grown up! And winning the White Heron Cup!” He laughed again.

Byleth nodded, which caused Alois to grin again.

“Goddess. You remind me of your father.” He said fondly. “You inherited his demeanor! And his way with words.” He added with a laugh. “But you must look just like your mother!”

“She does.” Glenn interjected. “Spitting image of Aunt Radella.” He bowed towards Alois, lower than he normally did to members of the Church. “I am her cousin, Glenn Fraldarius, Heir of House Fraldarius.”

“Of course!” Alois said, clapping Glenn on the shoulder. “I was so pleased to hear of Jeralt joining your family! Especially after… well… after everything. I wished Jeralt all the happiness in the world when he left the Knights.” He said solemnly but brightened again quickly. “I also heard of your appointment to the Royal Knights! Knighted at fifteen! Quite the accomplishment, young man!”

“Thank you.” Glenn said with a nod. “His Majesty was kind enough to allow me to attend the Academy this year, but I will be returning to his service after graduation.”

Byleth tugged on Miklan’s sleeve to bring him up next to her.

“This is Miklan Gautier.” She told Alois. “He also squired under my father. He was knighted last year.” The redhead blushed slightly at the recognition.

Alois seemed near overwhelmed with joy. “My squire-brother!” He said, before throwing his arms around Miklan in an extremely enthusiastic hug.

They introduced Alois to their other classmates, then invited him to join them for the rest of the feast. The knight was boisterous and _loud_ but Byleth was surprised to find that she didn’t mind his demeanor. His cheer was so obviously genuine, and he never forced Byleth to contribute to the conversation, but never seemed to exclude her either despite her lack of participation. She could see why her father tended to speak of Alois with fond exasperation.

With the White Heron Cup’s conclusion, the students quickly turned their focus to the upcoming Ball. Byleth had allowed her mother and Uncle Rodrigue to have her fitted for a dress for the occasion, though understanding the students’ level of excitement for it alluded her. It seemed to be all her classmates wanted to speak about, and the Monastery’s halls were constantly filled with giggling and gossip. Byleth found herself escaping it all as much as possible by retreating to the fishing pond or training grounds.

The night of Ball itself found Byleth fielding more dance requests than she had anticipated. Apparently, her win of the Cup had made her more approachable by the classmates that had avoided her all year.

Glenn had requested she dance with him for the opening number led by the House Leaders, so as not to show favoritism to any of their female classmates and potentially shame Ingrid. Honestly, the politics of it all exhausted her, but she was happy to help her cousin in any way she could, even if that meant dancing with him a few times whenever it seemed someone was showing a bit too much interest in dancing with the future Duke. Due to them being family, it was acceptable to share multiple dances, but she was careful to only accept one or two dances from her other friends, since Glenn had been insistent on that particular social constraint.

Sothis was awake the entire night, singing along and providing Byleth with dancing tips. Her obvious enjoyment of the night had Byleth dancing more than she would have otherwise and staying later than she had planned. She could tell that Glenn and Miklan were surprised by her participation, but pleased nonetheless. She found herself smiling more than usual and admitting, if only to herself and Sothis, that perhaps she could see the appeal of these sorts of events.

The delicious food and drinks available didn’t hurt either.

~~~~~

**Lone Moon, 1175**

The conclusion of the school year came with much fanfare. Many family members traveled to attend the graduation ceremony and the Monastery spared no expense for both the accommodations of the visiting nobles and the celebration following the ceremony.

Byleth was waiting with Glenn and Miklan to greet the Fraldarius party scheduled to arrive. Her most recent letter from her father had explained his inability to attend due to an extended contract in a small village in Alliance Territory (his hesitance to visit the Monastery due to past events went without saying), however she was more than pleased that her mother had been able to make the trip with Uncle Rodrigue. To the surprise of the three friends, the Fraldarius entourage was not alone when they rode through the gates.

“Father, Aunt Radella, Lord Gautier, welcome to Garreg Mach.” Glenn greeted them as the three of them bowed to their family.

Byleth was soon engulfed in the comforting embrace of her mother.

“Mother.” She whispered as she returned the hug. “I’ve missed you.”

“Hello my dear.” Radella said as she gently stroked Byleth’s hair. “I’ve missed you as well. So much.” She pulled back slightly and gripped Byleth’s hands as she gave her a once over. “Look at you! You’ve grown up so much.”

Byleth blushed slightly and gave her mother a small smile.

“And Glenn!” Radella greeted her nephew, keeping one hand on Byleth as she leaned over to hug him and kiss his cheek. “It seems you had a very successful year.”

“Indeed.” Rodrigue agreed and he placed a gentle hand on Byleth’s shoulder and kissed her forehead in greeting. “You did our House proud.”

The four of them turned towards Miklan where he and his father were exchanging slightly stilted greetings.

Byleth would always find herself wary of the Margrave. He never treated her or Glenn with anything less than the upmost respect, but she would never be fully comfortable with the man. While his relationship with Miklan had improved greatly once he began to squire for Jeralt, it would never be easy. However, in recent years, he had seemed to be making an effort when it came to the support of his eldest son. He had begun training a battalion of Wyvern Riders shortly after Jeralt had contacted him in regard to Miklan’s intention to attend the Academy, even though wyverns were not well suited for the cold of Gautier Territory and had to have special accommodations for the winter months. He had also gifted Miklan with new armor and riding tack for Rowena as commendation for his knighting last year. And now this, traveling the long distance from Gautier to Garreg Mach to attend his son’s graduation. While it was the bare minimum expected of a noble lord and his eldest son, it was more than Miklan had expected. More than anything though, she knew that Miklan appreciated the fact that the Margrave did nothing to stand in the way of his sons having a close relationship (as long as Miklan did nothing to interfere with Sylvain’s inheritance).

She and Glenn greeted the Margrave as Rodrigue and Radella congratulated Miklan on his own successes during the year, then the six of them continued from the courtyard to the Monastery proper. The three students gave their parents a tour of the grounds, as the adults shared their own experiences of attending the Academy and pointed out different areas that had changed in the years since they had attended. At the sound of the dinner bell, their party made their way to the Dining Hall. They had made plans with their friends to meet up, and they joined the table where Holst, Balthus and Leopold were already seated with their own families.

Duke Goneril and Lord Albrecht exchanged greetings with the Margrave and Rodrigue, while Radella introduced herself to Countess Bergliez. Leopold had explained to them earlier that many of the lords from the Empire would not be attending due to the recent conclusion of the war with Dagda and Brigid, his father, as Minister of Military Affairs, chief among them.

Their table’s discussion soon turned to politics and nobility gossip, and Byleth did her best not to completely tune them out. Her mother threw her an amused glance and Glenn would nudge her occasionally when the topics included something he thought she should pay attention to. She mainly spent her time observing how her friends and their families interacted, which was much more interesting. She could tell that Rodrigue and the Margrave were pleased with their sons’ new friends, and while Byleth always chafed at the idea that status was what made someone worthy of friendship (it wasn’t), she had also learned how important connections could be from her father. And so, she was content to allow their families to believe what they would about why the six of them had become friends.

Byleth supposed it wasn’t entirely unwarranted. After all, she probably would not have connected with Leopold and Holst had they not been House Leaders and thereby already acquainted with Glenn. She also knew that the commoner students found the nobility to be intimidating and difficult to approach, and had only interacted with those within the Blue Lions, and scarcely at that.

Sometimes, Byleth found herself imagining what her life would be like had she not been born to House Fraldarius. If she had only had a minor claim to nobility through her father’s knighthood. Would she still be friends with Glenn and Miklan? Would Leopold have deemed to introduce himself to her? Would Holst have made more than that initial compliment to her skills? She felt as though nothing would have changed with Balthus, however their initial connection occurred due to her Crest, so perhaps not. Maybe she would simply be another mercenary, her name unknown and unremarkable.

Byleth shook herself mentally to dismiss those thoughts. There was no use dwelling on “what-if’s” and “could have been’s”. This was her life, and she was happy.

The graduation ceremony itself was a grand affair. The professors awarded their students with their graduation degree, listing off the certifications they had earned and commenting on their achievements throughout the school year. The House Leaders each gave a speech and the ceremony concluded with Rhea congratulating the class on their success and blessing their further endeavors.

Rhea’s gaze seemed to rest on Byleth for a beat longer than the other students, but Byleth hoped it was her paranoia that made her think that. She had made it through the entire year without once interacting with the Archbishop. In fact, she had had very few interactions with any of the members of the Church other than Hanneman and Alois. She knew Glenn had done more than she knew to intercept any inquiries regarding her and was extremely grateful for her cousin’s methods of protection. Both he and Miklan had been appalled when they learned of what her father went through and his reasons for leaving the Knights. She knew it had colored their perception of the Church and affected their time here at the Monastery, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret telling them. It was best to be forewarned of any potential enemy, regardless of where they may come from. 

_Perhaps, especially, of potential enemies that clothe themselves in light and benevolence._ Byleth thought to herself as Lady Rhea finished her address.

“May the Goddess watch over you all.”

And with that, Byleth’s year as a student at the Officer’s Academy came to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! That ended up being way longer than I planned.
> 
> Yes. I’ve made the Relics semi-sentient. I mean… come on, they are made out of the bones of first Crest bearers and have their hearts literally embedded in them and you’re telling me they aren’t?? Byleth has Sothis’ heart inside her and sees her in her head, so obviously the Crest Stones hold some level of consciousness… at least that’s what I’m going with!
> 
> So, I played around with some canon ages. I just _really_ wanted Holst and Balthus to be there this year. In canon they attended the Academy in 1172 rather than 1175, but we don’t know how old Holst was at the time (Balthus was 19). Classes seem to contain students from the ages of 17-20 (Lysithea at 15 and Mercedes at 22 seem to be outliers, since they make multiple comments on their ages), so I just decided that these two waited a few more years before attending or were a few years younger than in canon. And obviously I just gave Caspar’s unnamed older brother a name and assumed age, since we don’t know anything about him other than he exists. Also, I moved Jeralt’s meeting/training with Leonie to be in 1175 rather than 1174, since it made sense for him to have taken her under his wing while Byleth was away at the Academy. It also explains why she and Leonie didn’t meet.
> 
> Yeah… I only named like five of the 24 students attending at the same time as Byleth, but I didn’t want to come up with any more OC’s lol. I checked for any other named characters or anyone else other than Caspar, Hilda, Sylvain, and Felix having older siblings and didn’t find anything. If there's someone I missed, I'm sorry! But these characters were the ones that fit well.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed seeing Byleth as a student! She is slightly more verbose than in the game, mainly because she started opening up sooner. But I tried to keep anything she said to one or two sentences, to keep her in character.
> 
> For those of you following along with the dates… I’m sure you know what the next chapter will be.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! I appreciate your comments/kudos/bookmarks so much!


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